Loose Lips
by RedWheeler
Summary: Every year she was asked the one question that made her angry: Do you have a boyfriend yet? Yet? Well what else could she do to shut them up... Hilary just wished she hadn't spoken so soon, or said his name. Complete.
1. Prologue

**A/N**: I've been trying to write this for a year, so I'm quite relieved that this is finally coming together. Please enjoy, and don't forget to review, I'd really appreciate it.

Thank you again to Musee.Picasso for giving me your opinion on the summary; I was between myself trying to figure out if it was too vague or specific and you really helped.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade.

Prologue

Hypocrite.

She hated that word, how it formed in her mouth and sat there. It weighed down her tongue, daring her to disagree… to challenge it. How she loved a challenge; but not today. She _knew_ she was being one, she couldn't deny it. Not today, not like this.

And she found it quite hard to suppress these thoughts, the bright yellow paint that washed the walls bombarding her with the sun's rays. Suddenly she found the chipper colour choice rather dread worthy, it drilled the fact that outside the world was awake, and she was in bed into her mind.

Closing her eyes tighter, Hilary pulled the blankets over her head. Masking the lovely reminders that it was far into the afternoon from her sight, although not entirely. Pink did that, blurring neon numbers and dulling bright skies just so that she could still see them if she chose to.

All she wanted was for the day to go away, to fall asleep in the comfort of her room and wake up in the optimism of tomorrow. That was apparently too much to ask, today wasn't giving up without a fight.

She could see him now, as if he would somehow already know, smirking smugly just at the thought. "Hey Hil, I heard you slept a _little_ late today…. What's that, a four…?" he beckoned at his bare wrist.

Giving in to his nonexistent teasing, her eyes slowly opened as she focused on the glowing numbers. "Four thirty-eight…," she answered, murmuring to herself before burying deeper into the covers.

She wondered how much it would take to disappear, for the blankets to swallow her whole, to allow her family to forget that she was even there and continue with their plans on their own. They were the whole reason she was still in bed agonizing over the near future.

And her Mother wasn't helping. Unlike the tendencies of her daughter, Mrs. Tatibana was not an aggressive woman. She didn't like to impose on people, but rather hint blatantly to get her wishes across. This afternoon, she wished for _somebody_ to wake up.

So through the mounds of blankets and two fluffy pillows, Hilary heard doors accidentally slam, pots and pans crash to the floor on multiple occasions, and raised voices questioning the whereabouts of obvious items. But never a crack of a bedroom door and a demand to 'rise and shine', her Mom was never like that.

Or usually anyways, but something today had told her to tense when she heard footfalls climb the staircase. And then make their reluctant way to her bedroom door, only to pause in dramatics. Yet it was the twisting of the door knob that caught her breath, having it seize in her throat.

"Hilary…?" called her Mother from the doorway timidly. She stepped into the room, making her way to the center and pausing for a response. Sighing, the woman continued, "I know you're in there."

She was rigid within the covers, pleading with anyone who could possibly be listening for her to leave. The impatient tapping of a foot on the carpet told her nobody cared, not that she changed tactics as she lay unmoving.

The older woman placed a strand of hair behind her ear as she lowered her voice to a hush whisper. "You know, if I have to suffer through your Father's family… so do you."

Grumbling, Hilary surrendered. She peaked out from under the blankets with disagreement. "I don't see how that's fair, you married into it… I sort of didn't have a choice."

Mrs. Tatibana sighed again, only this time in disappointment. "You know _that_ isn't fair…," her Mother pulled a faint smile, placing her hands on her hips. "They'll be here any second."

"All year round we don't hear a word, and then we're supposed to drop everything to have dinner with them," the brunette complained, twisting herself further within the blankets, "That makes perfect sense."

"Well… that's distant relatives," Mrs. Tatibana shrugged, "Now will you please get ready?"

"Distant? Half of them live barely an hour away."

Letting out an unimpressed breath, like she often did when her temper appeared, the woman eyed her only child. "You're acting very immature, Hilary," she stated, causing the brunette to sit up quietly with wide eyes. "Get ready."

And with that command, she left her daughter alone within the confines of her bright yellow room. Truth be told, she had already been up at her scheduled time and had prepared for the day. Although she then decided her mood was much better suited moping in bed, dreading what was to come.

A family dinner.

If that could be said about strangers seated around a rectangular table knowing virtually nothing about one another. Uttering conversations that drag on, awkward silences that often take a toll before someone decides to acknowledge her existence. And then, the real fun begins.

Hilary ignored the thoughts, knowing reality would soon be at her door, so she unwound herself from the twisted problem she created. Stumbling slightly, she fell to the floor with the blankets grabbing her feet. Unharmed, she pushed them off as a slew of grumbles left her mouth.

Today was going perfect.

Picking herself up, she then smoothed out her clothing and checked her hair. Just because today was ruined, didn't mean she had to look bad. That being said, she deemed herself worthy and prepared for the worst.

With her bedroom door opened as she faced the incoming world, the wonderful smell of her Mother's cooking slowly crept up the stairs. She inhaled deeply, the aroma leading her to the kitchen as various dishes laid prepared in all their glory.

"Thank you," Mrs. Tatibana said, noticing her daughter had entered the room as she hovered around the stove. Her tone was to the contrary of the situation, seemingly unimpressed.

Deciding against a retort, Hilary's gaze travelled to her Father as he peered out the window frequently. "Hey Dad," she greeted, forcing a smile.

Nearly jumping from surprise, the man broke from his reverie to regard his daughter. "Oh… hey, Honey. Are you back from… uh… oh, I know their names," the man snapped his fingers in thought, "Tyler, Roy, Matt, Kyle and Kennedy's?"

Staring at him blankly, she quirked an eyebrow. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, it was her Father after all, and he had a tendency to only half hear what she said when preoccupied.

"Tyson, Ray, Max, Kai and Kenny," Hilary corrected with a roll of her eyes, "Plus you forgot Daichi."

"Right, right…," he muttered under his breath, his attention back with the outside world, "Dougie, nice kid…."

She gave up, realizing her Father would rather be entranced by watching the driveway than listening to her. Hilary focused back on her Mom, finding that she was giving the brunette a peculiar look. Looking around slightly, she inquired, "What?"

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

She felt her nails digging into her skin, her fists now balled at her sides while she attempted to control her temper. Certainly nothing was wrong with her outfit, she had even donned it after BEGA was defeated and nobody mentioned that it was horrible.

"Why?" Hilary asked petulantly.

"It's all well and good when you're out with the boys," her Mother tried to amend, "But certainly you have better suited stuff for guests."

Hilary was aghast, her mouth hung open before she attempted to retort. Unfortunately, her Dad decided to cut in. "They're here!" he shouted suddenly, jerking himself away from the window only to his head off one of the open frames, "Ack!"

"Are you alright?" she questioned, her anger dissolving into concern for the other parent.

Rubbing a hand through his dark hair, he smiled goofily in embarrassment. "Yep, just hurt my pride," he explained, trying to shrug it off, "No more arguing, be on your best behaviour."

Hilary nodded. "Do you think I look okay?"

As he was leaving through the doorway, he shot a confused look towards her. "Who said you didn't?" his voice travelled away from her, not waiting for an answer.

"No time to get changed," her Mother decided with a sigh, "Just go with your Dad for a little while, dinner should start soon."

"Hooray…," she muttered under her breath, her feet dragging in her Father's trail.

It was a somewhat small group to say the least, enough to be seated around their dining room table. Which was where Mr. Tatibana was leading them, and it wasn't until he had wrapped his arm around Hilary's shoulders that she was pulled into the conversation.

Chuckling at something her Uncle had said, her Dad threw her a gentle smile. Suddenly she knew what had happened, a lull had formed.

"Hilary, look at how tall you're getting! One day you're going to be taller than your Father."

Strike one.

Her lips pulled into a knowing smile, slight but apparent. She knew for a fact that she hadn't grown an inch, remaining at a height just above the man's shoulders. Yet it was always the first thing someone brought up, unable to handle the issue she was no longer up to their waists wearing pig tails.

"It feels like just yesterday you were only nine years old. I wonder when that changed?"

Strike two.

It was a follow up comment, and not knowing what to say, she nodded. There was not much _to_ say, being merely idle conversation that sprouted awkward discomfort all around. It was a deadly set-up for a dangerous lull, one that caused the ultimate dread.

Now seated at the rectangular table, she fought the urge to tap the surface in rhythm. It was a nervous habit; although what was to happen wasn't a huge deal to others, to Hilary it meant something else entirely.

"So Hilary, do you have a boyfriend yet?"

Strike –

Wait a minute.

_Yet_? Her jaw set, her teeth gnashed together. She always had a problem with this question; their air about it always seemed to change. Although light and harmless in the beginning, recently it had seemed rather amused. Always replying with a simple no, they had come to expect it. And this bothered her.

Hilary had relatives watching her, the yet hanging in the air, but only catching her attention. Apparently this aspect of her life was long overdue, nothing else could compare to this vital information – it was all that mattered. And all of them waited for their amusement.

It was time for that to change.

"Actually, I do."

"You do?" came scattered rebuttals amongst the table, their skepticism clear. Managing to swallow her anger, Hilary pasted on a smile before nodding in confirmation.

Her Father made a choking sound, leaning on the table with his elbow, he seemed to be panicking. "You do?" he repeated, sounding more concerned than surprised.

"I do," she shrugged, her smile relaxing.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Tatibana questioned as she carried out some of the dishes, she had her head quirked to the side in curiosity.

"I'll tell you what's wrong, our daughter has a boyfriend!"

"You do!" her Mother exclaimed, putting the dishes down before clapping her hands together. It was quite obvious her parents had separate opinions on this _fact_. "Who is it, Hilary? What's his name?"

She froze for a moment; she hadn't guessed they would want to know his name. She figured it would've been the same as saying no; letting the answer fade away without further prying. But she had to say someone fast or they'd become suspicious.

"Tyson," she blurted out.

Nope, not suspicious at all.

Then the name registered, and she had to stifle the urge to recoil at the thought. Out of all the people to choose, she had to choose _him_. Not that it really mattered, he served his purpose. Tyson managed to silence them and now he could be put away, never to find out about this little situation.

"I knew it all along," her Mother beamed, going around the table to put her hands on Hilary's shoulders. "I could tell they really cared about each other, you should hear how they speak to one another."

Hilary pressed her lips together tightly, suppressing her laughter. She had no idea _what_ conversation her Mom heard, but odds were if someone heard them talking, they wouldn't be thinking couple.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Tatibana intervened, utterly confused. "Tyson? I've never even _heard_ of this kid."

Ignoring him, Mrs. Tatibana's grip on her daughter's shoulders tightened in a playful squeeze. "Hey…," she said slowly, regarding one of her sister-in-laws, "Do you think we could send an invitation to him too? You know, for Hilary's sake."

"Tyson? Oh, sure! There's still time, we'll invite him as her date. Do you know his address?"

Tensing, the brunette looked between her Mom and Aunt in frantic confusion. "Invitation? Invitation to what?"

"The wedding…," they answered slowly, both giving disapproving stares. And she would've felt guilty for forgetting if alarms hadn't gone off, buzzing in her head at a high risk factor.

"Oh… right," she pulled a small smile, but her nerves had broken right through. "What does this have to do with Tyson exactly…?"

"Poor boy must feel left out, if we had known sooner, we would've sent one out along with the other invites," her Aunt sighed. "No need to worry though, I'm sure he'll understand completely."

For some reason, Hilary didn't quite believe that. Sinking back into her seat, the adults around her began to speak animatedly as she became lost in her thoughts. She should've kept her mouth shut, let them have their laugh; there was no way she could get out of this, let alone live it down. But she did know one thing….

She should've stayed in bed today.


	2. Chapter 1: Truth Shmoof

**A/N**: Sorry this took a while, I actually finished it before my summer ended… just needed to fix a rough spot. Vaguely had to ask my brother for help, and I'm pretty sure he didn't understand half of what I said. So… tell me if you see any problems.

Thanks goes out to **Christin**, **DaddysGirl81**, **Moonlight Serenity**, **chicago77**, **Unfunny** **Joke**, **Nat**, **Musee.Picasso**, **Sony89**, **Bayleef** and **JuppieJutsu** for taking the time to review!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade. There's also a Lassie joke – so I don't own that either – just thought I'd point out that. It's either you'll get it, or you won't.

Chapter One: Truth Shmoof

Beautiful days, they had this overwhelming desire to make people deliriously happy. The sun was high in the sky, lining puffy white clouds with golden curves, and calling children out to play. Optimism was in the air, beckoning bright futures and holding heads high.

Boy did Hilary hate the smell.

Exhausted, she dragged her feet across the pavement, dreading the moment she would come face to face with the Granger dojo. That was how she had spent the better part of her night after the dinner; lying in bed, wide eyed as her brain wrapped around the thought frantically.

Boyfriend. Tyson. Laughingstock. Hilary.

And when she thought she had escaped her full throttle panic, it decided to absorb into her dreams. Twisting what were once lovely fantasies into morbid cruelties; a nightmare that preyed with interesting actions.

Her eyes had opened slowly, fluttering with confusion as she realized she was no longer at home. Loud murmuring had caught her attention, directing her to a crowd that was seated in fancy clothing. It took a second, but it registered, these people were her family – grinning, subtly pointing to her, some were even crying – and she had no idea what she was doing.

"Please don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

Relief had washed over her when she heard the familiar voice, warmness wrapped within nonchalance. Turning around, she faced Kai as he folded his arms; the sight of him didn't make sense.

"What…?" Hilary had uttered quietly, staring at the teen that was for some reason wearing a tuxedo.

"Second thoughts," he rephrased with a shrug.

"On what, what do you mean?" she tilted her head, surveying his appearance, "And why are you dressed up like that?"

"You asked me to be your best man."

"My best _what_?"

Kai hadn't repeated himself. So Hilary hung her head with a sigh, thoughts swimming in different directions. That was, until it dawned on her she was also wearing a suit and everything froze. Her head jerked up, staring at the slate haired boy with wide eyes.

"What's going on?"

Organ music had unfortunately begun to play, silencing Kai's unmoving lips. He merely took a step back, leaving Hilary alone in the center of a raised platform. At once, everybody stood and had turned their backs to the brunette as massive doors began to open.

The aisle formed was long, and Hilary had strained to see who had been revealed. Cameras had been raised, flashes going off from both sides respectively, while amused murmurs danced amongst the crowd. Regardless, she stood silenced as Daichi marched towards her, waving and posing for the attention.

Smiling, the younger boy had skipped up the steps with his coat tails flying behind. "Time to take the plunge," he urged, digging into his pocket, "It's either sink or swim."

"What are you talking about…?"

"Face the music," Daichi told her, grabbing her hand and shoving something into her grasp. "Never say things you don't mean. Don't mess this up."

Her gaze had fallen to her open palm, a golden band now laid in her grasp. She was about to question the red head when the organ music picked up, playing a well known tune that silenced her family. And just as Kai had done, Daichi merely took a step back.

Turning cautiously towards the doors, Hilary had gaped when a figure came into view; or rather, three. A veil covered the identity of the first person coming down the aisle; an elegant white gown that trailed to the floor, Max and Ray following close behind, holding the train within their hands.

"What are all of you guys doing here?" she questioned when they had approached, taking the steps to the altar slowly.

"Well if it wasn't for you, none of us would be here in the first place," Max stated with a smile.

"Will someone please just tell me what's going on?"

Ray and Max had exchanged a worried glance; the hidden figure though remained unfazed, gripping a bouquet that it held. "If anyone knows what's going on Hilary, it's you," Ray had answered, dropping the train along with Max, "You're the one who said it after all."

"Said what…?"

Both boys had merely smiled, taking their place with their friends. Hilary let out a grunt, her gaze falling back to the third party of their group. The hidden figure.

Flowers had scattered to their feet when the bouquet was dropped, and slowly the now free hands of the person rose to touch the veil. Pausing, the fabric was pushed back; Hilary nearly lost her footing, behind the beautiful wedding dress had been none other than Tyson. And to say the least, he had not looked impressed.

"Mind telling me what _I'm_ doing here?"

Luckily, she hadn't woken up screaming. Hilary was thankful for that, not having to explain why her subconscious decided to torture her to her parents. She had merely sat in the darkened room, easing herself into calm breaths.

Taking a street corner on this deliriously happy day, Hilary faltered slightly. The dojo was just up ahead and remembering last night's dream hadn't eased her in the least. Tyson in a dress could really do a number on someone.

Nonetheless, she inhaled deeply, striding with as much confidence she could muster towards her destination. Her dread filled footfalls echoed louder with every advancement, vibrating within her ears and forcing further pressure upon her already present headache. Fortunately, there were no greetings when she reached the yard, and she was left to find her own way.

Having been friends with Tyson for a few years now, his Grandpa never really had a problem when Hilary made herself welcomed. She was, after all, his grandson's home girl. Whatever exactly that meant; it included walking through the front door, no knocking necessary.

But she knew where they would be, and her legs guided her mindlessly around the dojo's exterior, a short cut to the main hall where they still liked to hang out. All of them, as strained as it may seem now.

Holding her breath, Hilary slid the door open. Relief engulfed her quickly though, when she realized only three boys were within the room. None of which were a navy haired boy wearing a wedding gown.

"Hilary?" Ray said surprised, he had turned to look at her from his spot on the floor. Sitting with his legs crossed, he threw her a gentle smile, "You know, we didn't expect you. It's well into the afternoon."

"Yeah," Max agreed, cracking a grin, "Must've been fun hanging out with the family if you're coming this late."

Grunting in reply, she hung her head. She closed the door behind her safely before moving slowly towards her friends, still bowing in the direction of her ever so fascinating shoes.

"Or it could've been horrible…," Kenny deduced while he busily typed away. He offered her a glance, not that she noticed.

"Oh, it couldn't have been that bad," Max stated, leaning back on his palms, "It's family."

Hilary met his gaze, giving him a dubious look. "It's not really important," she lied, shuffling her feet as she forced a smile, "So… where's Tyson?"

The blond became sheepish, "Promise not to get mad?"

"Is he still in bed?"

"Um… sorta… yeah."

"Good."

"It was all Ray…," Max started, but his words trailed off in disbelief. "_What_? Good, are you sure?"

"Of course," she shrugged, pleased that she still had time on her hands. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's noon," Ray reminded, quirking an eyebrow at the brunette. "Who are you, and what did you do with Hilary?"

"Everything's fine. I just… let him have some extra sleep, it will do him some good," she explained.

"Is this because you came a little late?" Max asked knowingly, although it was quite the opposite. "He's not going to throw it back in your face; Ray and I'll even wake him up for you now if you want."

"No!" Hilary shouted suddenly, she then of course slapped a hand over her mouth, sealing it shut. Ridiculing herself, she watched her three friends exchange concerned glances.

"Are you trying to tell us something…?" Max wondered, tilting his head to the side.

"What is it, Hilary?" Ray frowned.

Kenny snorted at how they sounded, shaking his head in bemusement. "Yeah Hil, what's wrong? Is lil' Timmy stuck in a well?"

Glaring at the genius, she lowered her hand. "No, but lil' Kenny will be if he doesn't watch himself."

"Understood."

"Did Tyson do something wrong?" Ray inquired, watching the brunette shuffle her feet. Her gaze softened when she looked at him, and she suddenly seemed tired. "Anything at all?"

She drew in her bottom lip, biting it absently before a loud sigh escaped her. "He got in my head."

"Oh," Max acknowledged, nodding slowly.

"Did you get enough sleep last night, Hilary?" Kenny questioned. Receiving another glare, he quickly added, "Staying out of the conversation."

"What do you mean he got in your head?" Ray frowned, completely confused. "What exactly happened?"

"It was terrible Ray, absolutely terrible," Hilary stressed, crossing her arms as she began to pace. "I… I didn't know what to do…. First it was playful… now it's mean! I just… I had to… it just came out. He was the first name – I swear… I don't believe I said Tyson…. They said yet Ray, _yet_!"

"Yet?" he repeated blankly. She nodded in confirmation, leaving him to draw his gaze to Max; he appeared just as lost.

The blond simply shrugged. "I don't get it."

Hunched over his computer, Kenny looked cautiously at the brunette. "I think you need a little more detail; we're not exactly following…," he said nervously.

"My Dad's family came over for dinner, we don't exactly see each other a lot… so they only say so much to me," Hilary stopped pacing, starting over. "Including something that really bothers me: their insistent need of me to be dating."

"What's this got to do with…?" Max trailed off again, his eyes widening. He leaned forward, gaping at the thought, "You didn't…."

"Mean to," she finished his sentence, grimacing as the details flowed through her mind once more. "They asked me if I had a boyfriend yet. Yet! So I had to shut them up, I didn't know they were going to ask who, or that I was going to say _his_ name."

They were speechless to say the least, wearing similar expressions of a dumbfounded nature. She tried her best to keep her patience through their silence, waiting for what they had to say to be released.

"You're kidding…," Max said, his lips curving into an amused smile, "That's awesome!"

"How is that awesome?" Hilary demanded, her hands balling at her sides. She could feel her nails pricking her skin, trying to stifle her temper. "This can't even qualify as awesome."

"It's not that bad, Hilary," Ray shrugged good naturedly; he thinned his smile in an attempt to calm her down. "It's kind of funny if you think about it."

"I have thought about it," she told him, "About a million times. And every time it's the same, I want to go crawl under a rock and be left alone."

"As fun as that sounds…," he replied evenly, giving her a sigh, "Don't you think you're over-reacting… just a little?"

"Ray's right," Max nodded, "You're acting like you _have_ to tell him. Just keep it to yourself, how will he ever know otherwise?"

She took a deep breath, swinging her arms before entwining her fingers. She folded them politely in front of herself, forcing a pleasant smile onto her face. "Wedding," she stated simply, allowing it to ring swiftly through the air.

"Wedding?" Kenny repeated skeptically, presenting it far less tastefully. Coming from him it sounded almost accidental, as if this absurd idea had just been discovered.

"Man, your parents don't waste time…," Max frowned, arching his eyebrow in surprise. "No wonder you're all shook up."

"It's not my wedding," she corrected, thankful for that fact. "It's one of my Aunt's; my Mom was just trying to be helpful… I guess."

"Helpful is nice," Kenny said, nodding. "Although, what she did, I'm assuming, wasn't so great for your huge lie?"

"She thought including Tyson would make him feel more welcomed; apparently I somehow neglected him or something…," Hilary sighed, "So guess who has mail?"

"Nobody even asked you?" Ray asked curiously.

"Why would they have? Boyfriends _should_ be enjoyable to be around; they probably thought I'd be ecstatic," the brunette stated, "I should've kept my mouth shut."

"Obviously," Kenny agreed. "Have you tried… I don't know… the post office? Maybe you can get the invitation back?"

"They sent it express, so it should be here today, if not already. Just waiting to destroy my life as we know it…."

"Why don't we just take it back then?" Max offered, "Technically, it is yours… kind of, so it isn't stealing. We're just rightfully claiming something that shouldn't have gotten out."

"That two people are getting married under holy matrimony? Yeah… we should keep that hush hush," Ray smirked, shaking his head. "Grandpa might get a little suspicious if we start going through his mail; besides if your family is set on inviting Tyson, Hilary they might just call."

"I hate it when you're right…," the brunette frowned, hanging her head again.

"The best thing you can do now is tell him the truth," he continued, "Face to face; you never know, he could surprise you."

"Tyson?" Max asked skeptically.

"I have to agree with Max, Ray," Kenny decided, "I can't exactly see him coming from Hilary's side; he never usually does after all. Let's be blunt, Tyson will either think this is hilarious or he'll be furious. Both not so great sides of the same coin."

The brunette groaned, falling to her knees sadly. She pounded the floor with her closed fists, silently cursing the truth her friend held and how it was everything she was expecting. "Why me…?"

"Great job, Chief," Ray sighed, eyeing Hilary as she continued to mutter to herself. "I think you really helped her out there…."

"Sorry," the boy apologized, fiddling with his glasses sheepishly. "I'm a man of Science; I had to lay out the facts."

"Well whatever you do Hilary, you can forget what I said," Max told her sympathetically, giving her a bright smile. "It's not like you have any other choices, Tyson _has_ to know. I can't see him going to a wedding for all the fame in the world if he didn't know why he was invited."

She paused, laying her hands flat on the floor boards. Her self pity quickly disappeared, vanishing into wonderment. "All the fame in the world…?" she repeated, looking to the blond for confirmation.

"Yeah, you know Tyson. He may have a big head, but he's not a sell out," Max explained, "If someone offered him the ultimate fame for his appearance at a wedding, I don't think he'd go. He has his integrity."

"But for the ultimate fan…?" Hilary challenged, smiling as everything came together. He had always been a sucker for those, anything to feed his ego. "Max, you're a genius."

"I am?" he asked surprised, his eyebrows shot upwards as he titled his head. "What did I do exactly?"

"Tyson is going to this wedding," she declared confidently, clapping her hands together. The boys, unfortunately, didn't seem to share her enthusiasm.

"How…?" Ray questioned suspiciously, "And please tell me that it includes you informing Tyson about his… involvement; you know, the truth about what happened?"

"_Well_," she drew the word out, giving him a thoughtful look, "It all really depends on your view of the truth…."

"Wait, wait, wait! Let me get this straight," Kenny interrupted, waving his arms around to grab everyone's attention. He took a deep breath, his frown creasing further when he looked at Hilary. "You're going to fix a lie with another lie…? Is this because it worked so well last time, or because you haven't learned your lesson?"

She waved him off, "It's not lying per se… I'm just not going to tell him why he's really coming."

"By telling him something else instead?" the brunette deduced, causing Hilary to nod. "That's a lie!"

She denied the statement, shaking her head with a smile. "Technically, what I'm going to tell him _could_ be true; I wouldn't know," she let out a relieved sigh, feeling tense no longer. "Relax Chief, I'm practically a politician."

"That's reassuring…."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ray said calmly, "You'll have to tell two different stories at the same time, and they're not exactly going to match up."

"I'll be with Tyson the whole time," Hilary explained, "There's no way something will get passed me. It's a wedding anyways, everyone will be focused on the groom and bride to pay us any attention."

"How about the mandatory 'so and so will be next' jargon?" Kenny reminded, "Nothing says freak out Tyson like telling him he'll be getting married to you."

"How about telling him he's dating her? That should be pretty high on the freak out scale," Max suggested.

"Especially if it blindsides him," Ray added.

"I'm getting the impression you guys don't agree with what I'm doing," Hilary rolled her eyes.

"We're not exactly sure what's going through your head," Ray stated, "I really think you should tell him the truth, he'd understand better now than later when everything gets out of hand."

"He's never going to know," the brunette reasoned, "Everything's going to be fine."

"You're really going to go through with this?" he let out a sigh, his shoulders slumped. Nodding in agreement, she abruptly stopped when she heard footfalls. They echoed from outside, repelling against the wood as they came closer; she suddenly felt nervous again. Giving her a thoughtful look, Ray shrugged, "Time to sink or swim."

She wished he hadn't said that.


	3. Chapter 2: Invitation For Disaster

**A/N**: 2 months later…. Heh. Sorry for the delay. I really don't have an excuse, rather than just putting it off time and time again. I figured I should probably do something… seeing how this was just sitting around gathering dust. So here we go, the plot actually progresses. Tell me if you see any mistakes.

I must extend my thanks towards **DaddysGirl81**, **Sony89**, **Christin**, **JuppieJutsu**, **Musee.Picasso**, **Unfunny Joke**, **Jess** and **kissedbykai** for reviewing the first chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Two: Invitation for Disaster

Hilary was almost positive it was all in her head, but the floor boards shook with every footfall. Vibrating against her knees, she peered over her shoulder with her mouth hanging open. The room was silent, Kenny's persistent typing had ceased, and he along with Max and Ray sat with expectant looks.

"What are you doing?"

A breath of relief escaped Hilary's mouth when that question was heard; the door now opened, allowing sun to soak the once solemn room and outline the body of the boy who most definitely was not whom they were expecting.

"You're saved for now, Hilary. It's just Kai," Ray said with a wry smile, he shook his head at her good fortune.

Kenny let out a disappointed sigh, huddling himself again over his laptop. "I was kind of hoping for Tyson, you know? Get this ball of deceit rolling."

The slate haired boy's eyebrows had creased together in confusion, stepping into the room he glanced at his former team mates. "There's something going on," there was no question in his voice, he already knew.

"Oh, you don't even know," Max informed.

"Hn," he grunted in a Kai-like fashion, crossing his arms across his chest. "But do you know what I do know? Nobody's training."

"Technically…," Max said sheepishly, pointing a finger at him carefully, "You were, just a few moments ago."

Kai's gaze narrowed into a glare, shifting his head in the direction of the blond. "Where's Tyson?" he inquired indifferently.

"Uh… would you believe… not in bed?"

His eyes flickered with a slight trace of puzzlement; travelling towards Hilary in a state of brief curiosity. "Why?"

"Why?" the brunette repeated, scrutinizing him, "How would I know? Is it my job to wake him up? Was I elected to the position? Why don't you wake him up? Will you guys get off my back!"

"You'll have to excuse her," Kenny lifted his gaze from the computer screen, "Her common sense is on vacation."

Kai didn't say anything for a moment, studying the brunette on the floor. "I'll wake him up then."

"No!"

The slate haired boy nearly lurched forward as he turned towards the open door. He quickly balanced himself; shooting an unimpressed glare down at his feet, where Hilary had seized him around his ankles. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you were ready?" Ray rolled his eyes, amused by Hilary's frantic action. "Lying to us now too, are we?"

Max's eyes became sombre, "Are you…?"

"No," she chided the blond, "And Ray, Kai doesn't have to know what's going on."

"Then let him go."

"He's free to go whenever he wants."

Kai raised an eyebrow at her statement, still holding his gaze on her. She hadn't made a move; her arms remained grappling onto him. "Is this important?"

Hilary looked up at him, "It's in the name of integrity."

"Which she is saving successfully by wrapping herself around your feet," Kenny chimed in, sarcasm spewing at his mouth.

"I'm telling you, one more word…," she challenged, scowling.

"Or what? You can't touch me," the genius pointed out, fixing his glasses, "If you let go of Kai, he might run away… or, you know, just leave."

Letting out an unimpressed grunt, the female brunette peered up again at Kai. "Do me a favour and shuffle towards him…."

The slate haired boy shifted his jaw, growing impatient with her behaviour. "Want to tell me what's going on?" he asked, staring downwards at her.

Hilary reluctantly nodded, her attention flickering back to the open door. "We'll need to close that though," she decided, unwrapping herself from around his feet, "Can you do that for me?"

He frowned suspiciously, freely stepping near the door and sliding it to a close. "Why do I have a feeling this has to do with Tyson," he uttered, giving Hilary a knowing look.

"It's clearly all his fault," Ray agreed with him, answering for the brunette who lay across the floor, her arms now concealing her face. "You see Kai, he got in her head."

The slate haired boy didn't reply.

"He makes her tell lies," Kenny continued cautiously, darting his attention to the un-preoccupied girl. "Horrible, horrible lies."

"Listen guys…," Max said lightly, his voice careful, "Maybe we're being too harsh on her. She didn't have to tell us either, but she did… 'cause we're her friends. Maybe it's time we acted like ones."

Hilary exhaled loudly, peering between parted fingers that covered her face. "Thanks Max," she told him honestly, and although it was muffled, the point came across as the blond fired off a smile.

"Is there a point?" Kai spoke up, inquiring with growing disinterest.

She distinctly breathed outwards again, lowering her hands to palm against the floor boards. Her eyes were downcast, almost ashamed of the words that were again about to leave her mouth.

"I told my family that… that Tyson… Tyson was… Tyson is… sort of… my boyfriend," she confessed, her chin resting against the top of her hand.

"So they invited him to a wedding," Kenny included, smiling at the clincher of the problem. He interlinked his fingers, shaking his head in amusement, "As her date. She thinks telling him a lie is gonna help the situation."

Kai had apparently heard enough, turning on his heels back towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Ray asked out of curiosity.

"To wake up Tyson," he answered.

"Kai!" Hilary exclaimed, jumping up from the floor and racing ahead of the former team captain. She blocked the doorway, staring at him with wide eyed concern. "Why would you do this to me?"

"You can do whatever you want, I won't say a word. But it's past noon," Kai frowned, "Tell him all the lies you want, just say them when he's awake."

"Aww…," Kenny moaned disapprovingly, earning himself a few unappreciative glances. "What? I wanted to see Tyson get involved."

Hilary then flashed Kai a satisfied grin, clasping her hands on his shoulders in delight. "I knew there was a reason you were my best man," she stated, causing Kai to falter in confusion.

"I thought it wasn't your wedding…?" Max repeated in puzzlement, his eyebrows furrowed at his lack of understanding. "Hey, why is Kai your best man? What about me?"

"I got a better question, how is Kai _your_ best man?" Kenny inquired, "Wouldn't that make Tyson your bride?"

"Are we his bride's maids?" the blond smiled.

"Max, that means we'd have to wear dresses," Ray pointed out, giving him a peculiar look.

Faltering, the American restated his question, fear in his eyes. "Are we his bride's maids?"

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "No."

"Good," was the collective response.

"I'm not even going to ask," Kai closed his eyes, moving one of Hilary's hands off his shoulder as he was about to walk away.

"You're just going to let her lie to Tyson?" Ray frowned, giving the slate haired boy a surprised glance. "Don't you think that's wrong?"

The female brunette answered for him, "Oh Ray, you're over-reacting. Just let the whole thing go."

"Let it go? This isn't very Hilary-like."

"Well, _Hilary_," she referred to herself, rolling her ruby eyes, "Would _like_ for you to get off her back."

He sighed in disappointment, "When the sky starts falling…."

About to retort, Hilary was silenced by the sound of water splashing. It erupted into their conversation, taking control of the room. Blankly, she looked at each boy's face in turn, sharing sudden interest.

"How did you do that…?" Max asked in wonderment, smiling as he held Ray's gaze, "Looks like you have to leave her alone."

"I highly doubt that was the sky, Max," Kenny told him, giving him a weary look.

With his smile flickering, the blond gave the genius a funny look. "You guys never let me have fun anymore…."

The door had slid open at that moment, blanketing the room yet again with sunlight. Everyone's heads turned, staring blankly as a soaking wet figure stomped into the room; his feet squeaking against the floorboards.

"Uh… morning, Tyson," Max gave him a befuddled look, quirking his head to the side.

"Or should we say afternoon?" Kenny questioned.

The navy haired boy sighed, adorned in his green pyjamas that clung to his body. He seemed to be scanning the area with his eyes, narrowed and careful, before realizing whatever he had been searching for was nowhere to be seen.

"Why are you wet?" Ray cut to the chase.

Tyson snapped his unimpressed gaze towards his friend. "Have you seen Daichi?" he retorted, shaking his cap free head; water droplets springing off.

"Not today," Kenny shrugged.

"Fine," he growled, his eyes falling to Kai and Hilary, her hand remaining on his shoulder. "So you are here," he raised an eyebrow, "Uh… what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Hilary explained, removing her hand, giving Kai the ability to escape. Although he stayed unmoving, now staring nonchalantly at his team mate.

"Dancing," Ray answered on the other hand, a smirk quirked onto his features in amusement.

"What?" Tyson and Hilary asked incredulously, whereas Kai shot him a stern look. It merely caused Ray to grin.

"Tyson, I'm a good friend of yours whom you trust," he held a hand good naturedly over his heart, "Would I _lie_ to you?"

Hilary glared at him, though it had not caught the attention of the world champion. Rather, he became somewhat quizzical, "Well… there's a difference between lying and joking."

"Yeah, morality."

"Oh my God…," Hilary scowled in exaggeration, making Tyson stare at her with sudden interest. "Uh…," she covered lamely, "Tyson, you're wet!"

"Nothing gets past you, Hil," Tyson smiled, rolling his eyes. "How'd you manage to catch sight of that one?"

Withholding her temper, Hilary pasted on a thin smile in return. Crossing her arms, she tilted her head in question, "May I ask how?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

Pausing for a moment, she waited for him to start. She glared at him in realization, "How…?"

Grinning momentarily, he started to answer, "Well… I woke up and I figured it must've been really, really, _really_ early… 'cause you weren't there screaming my ear off. So I decided to go check the mail for my Grandpa."

Hilary swallowed hard, positive that the noise was the reason the room had fallen into sudden silence. "Mail…?" she chorused nervously, noting the other boys' entertainment par from Kai.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod, "Of course on my way around the dojo with the mail, Daichi shoots past me. The next thing I know, I'm trying to make sure I didn't hurt any of the fish."

"The mail is ruined then?" Kenny asked in disappointment, his shoulders slumping at the turn of events.

Lifting up his hand, Tyson showed them the easily folded papers that bent over his fingers like mere Kleenexes. "It's probably nothing important anyway," he stated hopefully, for the first time, considering them now.

"Probably not," Hilary smiled tightly.

"Bill, bill, bill…," Tyson read off, flipping through the fragile sheets. He glanced up to his friends, "Might as well throw these ones out, they send more if you don't respond, right?"

"That's usually how the law works…," Kenny frowned, "They're still legible?"

"I can just tell what they are," Tyson said, pausing for a second. "Hey, what's this?" He turned his attention to a smaller envelope in his grasp, flipping it over to read the address. "Aww… the ink is blurred… I can't tell who sent this to me."

"Let me see!" Kenny offered, jumping to his feet suddenly. He approached the navy haired boy, taking the letter puzzlingly into his hands. "Gee wiz," he faked a sigh of frustration, "It looks like I can't read it either."

"That's too bad…," Hilary uttered, staring rigidly at the familiar object of their attention. "What can you do though?"

"Open it," Ray answered with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe it's typed so it won't be all smudges. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Splendid," Hilary agreed with her teeth gnashed together.

Kenny returned the envelope to Tyson, and he wasted no time taking Ray's advice. "Hold these for a second," he gave the bills to Kenny, leaving the sole envelope in his grasp. He ripped open the seal messily, only really taking away half of it, leaving him to tear with his fingers.

Tyson removed the contents from the envelope, a folded piece of paper that fragilely bent from the water. Opening it carefully, a clump fell to the floor at his feet.

"I guess this teaches us that confetti doesn't bode well in water," Max deduced, looking thoughtfully at the remains on the ground.

"Confetti? Must be some sort of party invitation," Tyson stated, kicking some of the soaked paper off of his feet. "That or someone's getting married."

Hilary met Ray's gaze immediately, a silent warning of sorts. He, however, did not make a move; his expression turned serious before he reverted back to Tyson. The brunette found herself counting her blessings again, being salvaged from torture.

"It's so weird you say that," Max grinned obliviously, finding his friend's anecdote amusing.

Tyson turned to him blankly, "Why's that?"

"Uh…," Max faltered, realizing Hilary was now giving him a disbelieving, yet deadly, glare. "It's weird because I… was thinking about getting married… sometime to… someone."

"_Someone_?" the world champion challenged, "Who do you think you're kidding?"

"Shut-up," Max scowled.

"What's it say?" Kenny spoke up, leaning towards the letter in Tyson's hands. He stood on his toes, glancing over the top of the paper in curiosity.

"It's pretty blurry… I can't make out all the words," the navy haired boy frowned, staring intensely at each individual letter. "Uh… wait a minute, they left an address again; it looks sort of familiar…."

"You can read it?" Kenny asked, sparing a glance at Hilary. She merely stood silently, waiting for a reaction.

"It says something about being ignited to a westerning… whatever that means. Sounds pretty bizarre; everything else is basically blotched out though," Tyson sighed, "But this address… I know I've been there before."

"Really?" Max asked as Kenny took the letter from Tyson in a helpful manner.

"No wonder, it's Hilary's," the genius supplied an answer, giving a knowing smirk. "And it doesn't say you've been ignited to a westerning… you've been invited to a wedding."

The navy haired boy became perplexed; he snatched the invitation back, reading the new apparent words in disbelief. "That makes even less sense, why would I be invited to a wedding at Hilary's?"

Ray stared at him blankly, "How does that make even less sense? What kind of mail do you get?"

Ignoring his friend, Tyson waved the letter at Hilary in confusion. "What's this about? Did they send it to the wrong person?"

Struggling back an 'I wish', she forced a tight smile onto her lips. "I'm really sorry," Hilary began, her eyes wide with remorse. She slowly approached him, resting her hands on his shoulders with clear sadness. "It was horrible…."

Max and Kenny exchanged a confused look, while Ray smiled at her actions. It appeared that she had changed tactics.

"The mail man messes up all the time, don't worry about it," Tyson flashed a smile.

"That's not what I was talking about," the brunette stated, giving him a levelled look. She sternly shook his shoulders once, grabbing back his attention. "The invitation is for you."

He quirked an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"You see my Aunt's getting married…," she started, giving herself bearings to the story.

"Well that clears everything up," Tyson rolled his eyes. "You automatically invite world champion beybladers to weddings when that happens."

Hilary ignored the boastful attitude of the comment, and instead gave him a thoughtful look over. "It's funny you should mention that…," she smiled lightly, drawing her hands away from him.

"Maybe I should just stop talking," Tyson shrugged, briefly glancing at Max because of his previous comment.

"You're probably not the only one in the room who wishes they just kept their mouth shut," Kenny added, "Sometimes we all talk too much."

"Kind of like you right now," Hilary glared at him, causing him to sulk backwards a few steps.

"So… why am I funny?" Tyson questioned.

She bit her lip momentarily, "You're going to hate me."

"Hate you?" he repeated, his eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. "What am I, fourteen again? Did you do this so I'd somehow manage to get a detention?"

Hilary knew he was joking; a grin had formed on his lips in his own quirky way. "It's because of me that they invited you…," she confessed, making him tame his features.

"Back to the point… what did you do?" Tyson wondered.

She casted her eyes to the floor, her voice low and ashamed, "If you were me, you would've done the same thing. It was all for… Sammy."

Out of all the confusion in the room, Ray was the only one who voiced his. "_What_?"

"Sammy?" Tyson said incredulously, "Who's that?"

"He's the ring bearer, only five years old. The wedding has been really… hard on him," Hilary explained, swaying side to side on her feet.

Pulling a sympathetic smile, Tyson nodded with understanding. "Is it his Mom or Dad that's getting married?"

"Neither actually," Hilary corrected, giving a nervous smile, "He's the son of my Aunt's best friend… _but_ they're really close."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I can see why it tears him apart."

The brunette pouted suddenly, quickly clasping her hands onto her cheeks. "I knew it… I shouldn't have said anything… I'm just going to end up hurting Sammy more…. I'm such a horrible person…."

"Woah, hold on!" Tyson exclaimed, shoving the letter at Kai – who was the closest one around – before putting his hands on her shoulders for comfort. "You're not a horrible person; you were trying to help out a little kid. What did you say I would do exactly?"

"Well…," she drew out her word reluctantly, playing with the sound to seize Tyson's interest more. "He's a _huge_ fan of yours, loves you to death."

"He has great taste then," he grinned.

Hilary's expression brightened, "And I told him… maybe… you could come. He's just, I don't know, not thrilled with the marriage."

Tyson made a grunting noise as if he was in deep thought, and then he shrugged. "Is the groom a jerk or something?"

"No, no… nothing like that," she lowered her hands, "I think he's just really shy about his job at the wedding, walking in front of everyone and all. But if you were there… he would be so excited."

"I know what it's like… I met Typhoon Louis once," Tyson said fondly, thinking of his childhood hero, "It would be etched in his mind forever."

Hilary smiled, "Mmhmm… he's your biggest fan."

Tyson took a deep breath, water droplets running down the side of his face. Shifting his jaw, he stared at her intently. "Biggest fan…," he repeated, his lips tugging into a smile, "You know what? I'll do it!"

She faltered out of disbelief, "You will?"

"Of course, he's my biggest fan after all," he boasted, "And what am I without my biggest fan?"

"You do not know how much this means to me…," Hilary stated with a sudden fear that her eyes would well up with tears.

"Don't worry about it, Hil. My pleasure," he removed his hands from her shoulders, "Do I need to call or anything? Tell somebody I can come?"

"Oh, I can take care of that Tyson, you've done so much for me already," she offered.

"Yeah," he agreed, causing her to almost roll her eyes. "But can you do me one more thing?"

"I'm not going to make you breakfast."

"Of course not, I want to be alive for the wedding."

Hilary glared at him, "What do you want?"

Sheepishly, he held his arm and kicked the floor with his feet. "You're going to think this sounds weird," he told her, "But… I don't really know anybody in your family, so maybe we could go to the wedding together? To make things less awkward."

"Did you just ask her out?" Max blurted out.

"No!" Tyson snapped, "I just want to make sure I'm with someone I know."

Hilary was flabbergasted at how well _this_ lie was going; he had practically volunteered to be her date. "That sounds reasonable," she nodded, "Sure, we can go together."

"Great," Tyson nodded before shooting Max a glare, "In a purely platonic way. But… were you and Kai _really_ dancing?"

"Yes Tyson, we were really dancing," she retorted sarcastically, giving him an even look. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, Ray said it," he frowned, "And Kai's rich, he knows how to waltz."

"'Cause you know those always go together…," Kenny muttered under his breath, shaking his head slowly. Kai, on the other hand, just seemed to narrow his gaze towards the world champion in his own form of confusion.

"I was joking," Ray laughed, approaching Hilary so he could snake his arm around her shoulders. Pulling her close, he grinned, "We're all just a bunch of _jokers_, right Hil?"

She joined in the laughter nervously, looking towards him with contempt. "You bet… we live to laugh. Thanks for bringing it up, Ray."

"My pleasure."

"I bet it is…," she murmured.

Tyson beamed, "You're in for a treat though, I look amazing in a tux." Pausing for the groans of disagreement to subside, he considered a thought that just dawned on him. "Hey, do you have any cousins?"

"None that I wish to punish," Hilary stated, causing him to roll his eyes. "You really mean this, right? You're really going to come?"

"You act like I'm going to leave you at the alter," the navy haired boy quirked his head in puzzlement.

Max smiled, "In a purely platonic way?"

"Thank you Max…."

"Tyson…," she said seriously.

The world champion sighed, crossing his arms. He merely stared at her as if he was trying to crack a safe; figure her out. With a smile on his lips, his next few words made a chill crawl up her spine.

"Would I lie to you?"


	4. Chapter 3: Powder Blue Blues

**A/N**: Wow… almost two months… again. Uh, again my apologies, but I honestly do believe this chapter will make up for such a long absence. For one, it is almost 5000 words long and I was aiming for 3000, and two, it's probably my favourite chapter in the story so far. Actual plot development! I don't need to restate the plot to any more characters… thankfully. Anyway, please tell if you see any errors.

Thank you **Moonlight Serenity**, **DaddysGirl81**, **Christin**, **Musee.Picasso**, **Sony89**, **sanaa**, **Hiraiko**, **Unfunny Joke**, **stilted-stylus** and **Hunny Spectrum** for the reviews. I greatly appreciate it!

Oh… and sorry for the chapter title. I know it sucks. XD

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Three: Powder Blue Blues

"That should be… no, no… that's where the buffet table is going to be, that table should be over there…. No, no, you're not listening – over there. Yes, _there_. And each table should have five – no, no, no, six – chairs. Actually, can you move that to the left?"

Slightly leaning back in a spare metal chair, set up amongst a sea of them, all equally uncomfortable, Hilary listened to her Mother as she babbled on, coaxing people into their confused directions. It was as clear as day to see this woman was a leader, worked up over intricate last minute details as she drank down her fifth cup of coffee. Her hair was tangled and misplaced; and her deep bags foretold to anyone who gave her a mere glance that she regretted ever agreeing to hold a wedding in her backyard.

"Honey, I bought the – what's wrong?" Hilary almost pitied her Father, his face faltered questioningly at his wife from over a large flower arrangement.

"What is _that_?" she demanded.

"Um…."

"Please don't tell me that's the centerpiece. You know, I agree to do something like this for _your_ sister, thinking I will get some help. But I guess I can't even trust you to get one thing…."

Watching blankly, Mrs. Tatibana stormed away, her mouth moving miles a minute, towards some innocent bystanders. Hilary smiled sympathetically as her Father heaved a sigh, walking towards her with heavy steps.

"Just like our wedding," he joked, jerking his head in her Mother's direction. He let the flowers rest on the ground, pulling up a chair beside his daughter. "You look brimming with energy, what are you doing still hanging around here?"

"Mom made me, I'm… helping, somehow," Hilary shrugged, having been dismissed from her duty earlier.

"You rounded up these chairs quite nice," the man nodded, elbowing her playfully. Her lips had shown signs of a genuine smile, so the action relented, firing off a grin of his own. "Once everything's all put together, she'll wind down."

"Maybe," Hilary decided. "Why are you still around?"

"Mom made me," Mr. Tatibana smirked, "She gave me a very important duty – ruining the wedding."

Laughing, she shook her head in fake disappointment, "No wonder she was so upset, all you did was bring a terrible centerpiece."

"All I did?" he repeated with amusement, "Do you see those people over there organizing the table set-up? I told them, no matter what, to move things slightly to the right to throw off all the plans. Can you say diabolical?"

"Ingenious," Hilary rolled her eyes.

"Now that's a little heartbreaking. Receives straight A's, but mispronounces the word diabolical."

"Hilarious, Dad."

He nodded in agreement, bouncing his knees in the newly formed silence. Both of their eyes scanned the lawn, slowly it was transforming, decorated with flowing details. Her Father had cast his gaze back to the flower arrangement with dismay. "Is it really that terrible?"

"It's fine Dad, it just probably wasn't what she had in mind," the brunette reassured him, indifferent about the topic at hand. She instead folded her arms and slouched further within her seat. "You know how Mom is…."

"I think it runs in the family," he winked, chuckling at her immediate facial response. Scowling, Hilary pushed him lightly in the shoulder. "But flowers are a serious matter in weddings," Mr. Tatibana explained, returning to his point, "_Very_ serious."

She tilted her head to her side, incredulous. "I guess."

He nodded, his expression turning grave, "You know what else is serious…?"

"Nice segway," Hilary rolled her eyes again.

"You think so? I thought it was a tad bit rough… could've seen it from miles," he waved his hand in nonchalance, and then his eyes flashed with realization. Wagging a finger at his daughter, the man sighed, "I see what you're doing, trying to make me lose my train of thought…."

She smiled, "Seeing how I don't even know where you're going with this… do I really have a reason to try?"

"It's about relationsh-"

"What a terrible segway!" Hilary interrupted, staring at him with wide eyed concern.

Laughing, the man ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head up to look at the sky. "It's an important conversation – relationships, I mean. And I want to hear about this… Tyrone fellow," he Dad explained, "He must be _perfect_, you picked him out after all."

"Tyson," Hilary corrected, pausing to think about the point of his statement. Regardless that he had made it sound like she just chose him out of a litter of puppies, and she might as well had, she tried to weigh the pros and cons of the world champion's personality. "He… has some faults."

"Oh?" Mr. Tatibana said in suspicion, "Like what?"

"It's little, stupid things, Dad. Don't worry about it," she explained. But by the expression on his face, it was clear he was not buying it. "He likes to drum his fingers on the table when we're waiting for meals – it completely infuriates me."

His eye brows shot up in surprise, not quite expecting that sort of fault. "Well, I hope he keeps that behaviour tucked away in his sock drawer when he comes here for the wedding," the man stated, giving his daughter a solid nod. "You must be thrilled he's coming."

"Oh yeah…," she agreed half heartedly.

Not surprisingly, her Father had caught on to her uneager attitude. "What's wrong, honey? Is it because he didn't get an invitation like everyone else? We'll be sure to send him one the next time your Aunt gets married…."

Hilary briefly smiled, giving a limp shrug to the source of his words. "I'm actually a little nervous about the whole thing," she reluctantly admitted.

"You're just worrying too much, you need to have more confidence in yourself," he assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Besides, I'm sure your Mother will absolutely love him."

"What about you?" she gave him a skeptical glance.

Mr. Tatibana retorted with a levelled stare, "I'm sure your Mother will absolutely love him."

"I guess I can't ask for a miracle."

"Not when it's concerning boys," her Father frowned, despising the thought for even a moment that his daughter had a boyfriend. "What are you doing dating anyway? Kids these days grow up way too fast… fourteen and already dating… my gosh."

"I'm almost seventeen," Hilary said in deadpan.

"_What_?"

"Seventeen," she repeated, giving him a small smile, "And according to everyone else in your family, I should have been dating ages ago…. Heck, I should probably be hitched in a few weeks."

Not following the point she was trying to make, her Father blinked at these new details. "Seventeen? Are… you sure? You don't look a day over thirteen."

"Gee, thanks Dad," Hilary scowled.

"Oh… uh, sorry," he quickly apologized, "I guess you're not at that age where looking younger is a good thing. Which is fine… because then I would be senile and I rather like my memory…."

"Yeah, and your amazing ability to stick to the point," the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Huh? Oh, right… you're nervous," he snapped his fingers in realization. He turned his body more to face her, expressing that she now had his complete attention. "What's bothering you so much?"

Biting her lip momentarily, she sighed. "I don't know how to say this… it's rather embarrassing."

"He air guitars too, doesn't he?"

"Uh… no," Hilary said, watching her Dad's grin tame as it caught on to the edge her voice hinted. "It's something a little more serious, think you can handle it?"

With mock offense, he covered his heart, gasping at her implied accusation. "I can be serious, I can be dead serious. I can be so dead serious I am stepping into grave," he explained, and then his eyes lit up, clapping his hands together. "Dead and grave… that's a good one… did you get it? Oh… uh sorry."

Hilary wasn't impressed, and as her Father realized this, his expression quickly reverted back to apologetic. "Yeah, I got it," she told him, "Listen, maybe you should just forget it."

"What? No, no, no. You helped me deal with my tragic flower problem; the least I could do is help you with whatever yours is. I'm a Dad after all," he then cringed at how that sounded, "Sorry, I was trying to be funny again. You would not believe how hard it is for me not to make jokes, it's like it's tuned into my brain."

"I understand, Dad. All you need to do is listen," she stated, "Please."

"I think I can handle that."

"Tyson… is a little… _slow_, you could say," Hilary confessed very carefully, phrasing what she wanted to say with difficulty. "I mean, he's smart and stuff like that, but… he might act a little weird."

Mr. Tatibana frowned, perplexed at what she had said. "So… you're saying he's not an idiot?" he assumed, "Just… crazy."

"Dad!" she scolded.

"Sorry…."

"He's a little intimidated sometimes, especially by you… that's why I never brought him up before," Hilary lied through her teeth, finding the words that left her mouth a mile a minute to be the furthest from the truth. "If you say something about us – Tyson and me – together, he might freeze up."

"Freeze up?" he questioned incredulously.

"He says it's from the joy," she shrugged, forcing a nervous giggle out from the pit of her throat. "Just how his mind works."

"Sounds interesting. I never heard of that type of thing happening before," her Dad decided, "I'm sure it won't cause too many problems though, you just need to relax."

"I guess," she sighed, "I feel better now that I warned you. Promise to tell other people too? I mean, as long as Tyson doesn't know that you know… everything should be fine."

"Why can't he know that we know?"

"It's embarrassing for him, Dad," she shook her head.

"Embarrassing? How is his joy for your relationship embarrassing?" he scrutinized, quirking his head to the side as he searched for answers.

"Uh…," Hilary stumbled, "He's a bit of a complexity."

"I suppose he is," the man agreed, "But I'll spread the news for you – let the boy act weird. Understood."

"Thanks, Dad," she beamed.

"Hey, no worries. For you, that is… I should be going," Mr. Tatibana decided, drumming on his legs before he proceeded to stand up from the chair. "Ooh… sorry, honey, I didn't intentionally drum to bother you. Anyway, I should maybe find a dark corner to hide this atrocity before your Mom finds out."

"Good luck with that," Hilary smiled faintly as her Father picked up the flower arrangement. He then gave her a brief nod before making his exit to the other side of their lawn.

By her lonesome now, Hilary leaned forward, elbows perched on her knees as she looked around the yard. A fair amount of her Father's family had come down to assist her Mother, who remained in her uptight frenzy, prepare for the glorious day that was just around the bend. Rather dread worthy for the suddenly exhausted brunette, but a tinge of hope just walked through the gate.

Grappling onto his Mother's hand, a sandy haired toddler came hopping into the transformed backyard. He was being ushered towards a snack table when Hilary decided it would be nice to get to know him a little better.

Barely seeing over the clothed table, and without any prior assistance, the boy began jumping up and down to see the treats as Hilary approached him. "Would you like some help?" she smiled down at the boy; this had startled him and he hugged a rugged teddy bear he had been holding closer to him.

"Yes… please," he said in a small voice, swaying on his feet shyly.

Hilary couldn't help but giggle at this, preparing a small plate of delicacies for the boy. "Here you go," she told him, and he accepted it with gratitude. He led her to a vacant table, or more so, she followed him, not that he voiced his objections. "So how are you, Sammy?"

"He doesn't talk when he's eatin'," the sandy haired boy explained, taking a bite out of his cookie. "I'll ask him when we're done."

Confused, Hilary stared at him blankly. Although this was unnoticed by her seatmate, and he just continued chewing away with a pleasant smile on his face. Obviously she was missing something; he was too young to be referring to himself in the third person, even for half the time.

"I'm the ring bearer," he suddenly explained, under the pressure of her unrelenting stare. He smiled at his own news, revealing a gaping hole where one of his front teeth used to be. "Mommy says Sammy will have to stay home though… so we're taking lots of pictures!"

"Sammy…?" she repeated reluctantly.

"Yeah… he's sad," the boy confessed, giving his teddy bear a tight squeeze with one of his arms. "But I told him he could come to all my weddings."

Hilary could feel herself deflate as his words unfolded, letting free the last breath of faith she had in her. She began to believe the only reason she was still upright was because of the guilt building up inside her. Not only had she managed to mix up the kid with a teddy bear, she did not have a clue as to what the kid's name could really be.

Things could not get worse.

"Hilary!"

Her body instantly tightened at the voice, not only that, but the tone – concealed panic. "Excuse me," she said rigidly to the ring bearer and Sammy before sliding out of her chair and across the lawn.

In the center of the yard stood Max with his arms crossed and smiling awkwardly, he gave a meek wave, having read her expression. "You don't have to worry, he's not here."

Loosening a little, she surveyed his, also, tense façade. "Is something wrong? You don't usually just pop up at my house," she questioned, "Is Tyson injured and unable to come to the wedding?"

"I'm going to ignore the hope I heard in that last question to save myself some disappointment," Max sighed, "It's an emergency, but he's not hospitalized – just fashionably challenged."

Hilary frowned, "I'm not following."

"I'm only doing this because I care about you," the blond explained, "Powder blue."

"I hope to God you're talking ties," Hilary glared, covering her face with her hands. Muffled protests started to seep through her mouth as she complained, "Why would he do this to me? Why doesn't he just paint a target on his back?"

"Honey, are you alright?" a concerned voice called, and Mr. Tatibana came rushing toward his daughter protectively. He wrapped his arm warmly around her, giving her a saddened look before his attention turned menacingly on Max. "Are you Tyson?"

"I wish…," the brunette muttered.

"I don't," the blond blurted out, taking a weary step back with his arms raised in defence. "I'm one hundred percent Max. I'm just a friend of Tyson's."

"Do you always do his dirty work for him?" her Father barked, "Like make teenage girls cry?"

"Cry? Dirty work? I… I was just… I didn't…," Max stumbled, confused and terrified of the man before him. His mind was at a loss to help himself, so he opted to hang his head in shame.

"Dad, he didn't make me cry," Hilary came to his rescue, sending her friend an apologetic smile. "He was just telling me how Tyson was about to rent a tux just for this occasion… isn't that sweet?"

"I was?" Max frowned, but upon her Dad's gaze he changed his tone. "I mean, I was! Yeah, that Tyson, doesn't care if he doesn't have a dollar to his name, he'll find a way just for Hilary."

"Which is the really sweet thing," she informed Mr. Tatibana, shuffling her feet in an attempt at shyness. "Because he's getting Kai to pay for now… right, Max?"

"Oh yes," the blond agreed, holding a note of sarcasm in his voice, "Because he is such a charitable guy."

Hilary laughed nervously, shooting him a brief, but dark, scowl. "So nothing to worry about, you go back to hiding the flowers and Max and I will go over there…," she shrugged, leaving her Father's embrace and grabbing hold of the blond's arm.

"Well, okay," he decided, his scary persona quickly evaporating. Adorning a cheerful smile, he nodded to the two teenagers, "I'll see you later; nice meeting you, Max."

"Oh, nice meeting you too, Sir!" Max called back, waving to the retreating form of her Father. He instantly relaxed as Hilary began to drag him away, "I have never been happier my name isn't Tyson Granger…."

"That's nice and all, Max, but… we have a problem. Or I do, anyway," Hilary had brought him over to the table where "Sammy" was still eating his snack, but paused a slight distance away. "I lied to Tyson."

"Well that's old news," he retorted, a sad smile was on his lips as he quirked his head to the side. "You already told me that, don't you remember?"

"No. I mean, yes. I'm talking about a different time," she stumbled, trying to discern her explanation. "I didn't intentionally lie to him this time… it just sort of happened… accidentally…. It wasn't my fault!"

"Okay, okay!" he shushed her, making quick gestures with his hands to quiet her down. The last thing he needed was her Father to come back over because he was causing more trouble. "What did you do?"

Hilary sighed, waving over to the boy and his teddy bear. She then jerked her head so Max would go over there; he complied with her suggestion, merely giving her a curious look as he passed her, approaching the young toddler.

"Hey there," Max said cheerfully, he leaned forward, his hands residing on his knees. "You must be Sammy, right? I have heard a lot about you."

"Wow, you sure are popular today, Sammy!" the sandy haired boy replied excitedly, he nearly crushed the poor bear with a hug. "He's really happy you know who he is."

Max faltered for a moment, staring at the worn teddy bear in the kid's clutches. Blanking out, he straightened up before he uttered, "I bet he is." He turned back to Hilary, eye brows raised high in surprise, but she managed to beat him to the conclusion.

"I know, I messed up the kid's name."

He nodded absently, "I have to say I noticed. So… what did you think the bear's name was?"

"Don't have the slightest clue. I didn't think I paid attention to those kinds of details," she admitted.

"Gee, _Tyson_, that's helpful."

"Ugh… don't call me that."

Max grinned suddenly, leading the brunette further towards the table. "You're lucky I'm here then," he raised his index finger to the sky, "I have a solution!"

"You do…?" she asked skeptically.

Max sat down across from the cookie chewing boy he had thought was Sammy in the seat Hilary once occupied. "My name's Max," the blond introduced himself, waving in the process, "And we both already know Hilary and Sammy; so what's your name?"

"Elliot," he answered, showing off the gaping hole again with his grin. "I'm a ring bearer."

"So I heard," Max confirmed, glancing to the brunette who remained standing. "Hilary told me all about it, _Elliot_."

Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to the sandy haired boy. Beaming, he decided to continue with his story. "It's an important job! But Sammy's not allowed to go… Mommy said so."

"That's too bad…," Max sympathized with him. "But you know what…?" he smiled, "What if you went by both Elliot and Sammy on the wedding, that way it would be like he was there all along?"

Elliot's jaw dropped at the idea, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Do you think that will work?"

"I'm sure Hil's date will call you Sammy, no questions asked," Max nodded, adorning a grin. "Don't you think so, Hilary?"

"Without a doubt in my mind."

"That's great," he stated, struggling to get down from his seat. Holding onto Sammy, he waved rigorously at the two teenagers, "I can't wait to tell my Mommy, bye!" And before they could even react, the boy had taken off.

"I know," Max leaned back in the chair, "I'm awesome."

"I owe you one, Max," the brunette agreed, relieved and grateful for the blond.

"You'll actually owe me a few," he deduced, turning to her with a troubled expression, "After I tell Tyson he needs to rent a tuxedo and Kai that he needs to pay for it. You see, this is what lying does to you… this is why Ray wanted you to come forward."

"Mixing up a kid and a teddy bear isn't the end of the world," Hilary frowned, "They're both cute, is it a crime to mix them up?"

Max's expression softened, "I guess if you compare someone to a teddy bear it's not a big deal…. Really, it's a form of endearment."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"I wasn't thinking of anyone if that's what you were thinking!"

"Whatever you say, Max," Hilary rolled her eyes, "Come on, I want you to get rid of that powder blue _thing_ as fast as you can."

He reluctantly stood up from the table, trekking behind her back to the house. "Fine… I didn't want a cookie or anything anyway," he protested, causing his female friend to roll her eyes yet again. Not that it helped any; she had led him straight into her home.

It was a straight walkway to her front door, where the two teenagers were heading, so that she could show him out. "Thanks again Max, I really appreciate it…," twisting the doorknob, the door went ajar, revealing somebody else poised to knock, "Tyson!"

"Hilary!" the capped boy mocked, raising his voice in a girly manner. He grinned as a scowl formed on her lips, and he then turned towards Max with surprise. "So tell me Hil, how long have you been a dentist?"

The blond cringed at the words. "Did I say dentist? I definitely meant to say Hilary's…. 'Cause I have absolutely no reason to lie to you. I know how to shut my mouth," he explained before seeing Hilary's expression, "Like now! I'm shutting my mouth now… here I go."

"Uh… okay, man," Tyson shrugged, "Listen, Hil, I need to talk to you about something."

"Great! Let's go talk… over here," she grabbed his arm, dragging him into her house and straight for a closet. Pushing him inside, she closed the doors behind her. "Okay! So what did you want to say?"

He was silent for a moment as he searched for a draw string for the light; his search ended with a flicker from a small bulb as it swayed overhead. "Okay…. Are you feeling alright?"

"That was the question?" she inquired with disbelief, "I guess I'm fine. How about you?"

"A little weirded out," he admitted, shoving coats away from him so he wasn't pushed against the door. "Any reason in particular we're in a closet? Or is this just where your family holds important conversations?"

"It's crowded everywhere else, preparations and all," Hilary defended, "And if it's _so_ serious, why don't you just tell me?"

"Maybe I will," Tyson challenged.

"Well?" Hilary implored.

"I have a confession to make…," he laughed nervously, rubbing his hands together, "You see, I haven't really worn a suit in a long time… so I don't exactly have one. My Grandpa does! But… it's sort of… powder blue."

"That's the problem?" she asked, "Max already told me, although he made it sound like it was your idea to wear it."

"Well, I sort of was… going to. And then I realized it probably wouldn't help that kid any; maybe just make your family hate me. So I'll just save it for your wedding," he grinned, making her glare at him. Suddenly becoming sheepish, his smile tamed, "So you don't mind I'm not coming?"

Her eyes widened at the question, and she nearly pounced on the capped boy, seizing his arms with her hands. "Not coming?" she challenged, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't have a suit…," he explained sheepishly, "How can I go?"

"Kai will pay for a rental," Hilary stated.

"Will he now?" Tyson wondered incredulously, "Is this the same Kai I know, or just someone I've never seen before in my life? Maybe he's hiding within these coats…." Looking over his shoulder, he faked searching for his unknown helper.

"I'll get him to do it, relax," the brunette assured him, bringing him back to their conversation. "He likes me better than you anyway."

The capped boy made an odd face at the sentiment before he rolled his eyes casually. "Right," he said with a grunt, "I wish I could see that… the buying me a tux one, I mean."

"I kind of assumed," she smiled, squeezing his arms gently, "So… you're still coming?"

"Guess I am," he agreed, quirking a soft smile onto his lips. "You really want me to go to this thing, don't you?"

Hilary had opened her mouth to reply when Max had interrupted, "Don't go in there!" Confused, both teenagers faced the door as it was slowly wisped open. Mr. Tatibana stood there, eye brows raised high before they slowly crept downwards, appearing menacing alongside his narrow gaze. "Tyson and Hilary, you were in there?" Max asked shocked, "I thought it was… giant… bats."

The capped boy frowned at the blond, "Dude, you saw us go in."

Hilary's Father glanced back at Max, making him take a shaky step backwards, before crossing his arms. "So you're Tyson?" he asked, turning to his daughter and her _boyfriend_ curiously. "Mind telling me what you're doing in the closet?"

"You might want to ask Hilary that, I hadn't really planned on the closet at all," Tyson shrugged, not detecting any trouble. "She kind of just shoved me in here."

"Oh?" he quirked an eye brow, frowning at his statement, "And what was Mac here doing?"

"Max, actually," the blond corrected. But when he was sent another unimpressed glance, he cleared his throat nervously. "You know what? I'll get used to it…."

"I don't actually know," Tyson answered, giving his friend an odd look, unable to place why he was acting so weird. "He was just here when I got here."

"Mind explaining, Hilary?" her Dad asked, his expression lightening up considerably. Not that that said much, he still appeared stern and impatient, especially towards the two males.

"I know this looks bad, but it really isn't what you think," she started, dragging Tyson out of the closet and closer to the front door. "He was a little worried about the dress code and I… didn't want certain… _people_ to see him yet."

"Hey, I didn't even think of that," the navy haired boy said in awe, causing Hilary to step on his foot. "Ow!"

"And that's why I was out here keeping watch," Max explained, shuffling closer to his friends, "Because I knew who I was looking for… the people, I mean. Hil and I are pretty close after all…. But like friends! Not… boyfriend…. I'm not her boyfriend…. Obviously. Not that she's not beautiful or anything, she's great…. Really…. We just can't be together. Not that I wouldn't want to be with…. I'm just going to go home now…."

"Tyson will go with you," Hilary offered, pushing him into Max as he escaped through the door. She watched for a second as they nearly fell to the grass before the blond took off in a sprint, leaving the capped boy to have to chase after him in confusion.

"That Max kid is a little… off."

Hilary closed the door, facing her Father with a sheepish smile. "So… what were we talking about again?" she asked, hoping his memory wouldn't fail her just this once.

"I trust you," Mr. Tatibana said earnestly, giving her a worn sigh, "When have you ever lied to me? Now your boyfriend… well, we'll see about him."

A tight smile came across the brunette's face as her Father began to walk away. "He's really a great guy…," she added weakly.

"Oh, he can be spectacular for all I care. If you're having a conversation, I want witnesses. Or he's going to need them for a whole other reason…."


	5. Chapter 4: Walking In Heels

**A/N**: Hey, look at that, it's only been a month. Hopefully I can get chapters done at this rate more often, or you know… sooner. Sooner would be better, but I'm also busy trying not to fail Math… so, we'll see how things go. Anyway, it's another 4500 word chapter, so it probably has a mistake somewhere. Feel free to tell me if you see any. Like always, reviewing would be awesome.

Thanks goes out to **AJ**, **Christin**, **stilted-stylus**, **Sony89**, **Hunny Spectrum**, **Unfunny Joke**, **Musee.Picasso**, **sanaa** and **Haine-chan** for the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade. Breaking news there. XD

Chapter Four: Walking In Heels

"Is Tyson dressed?"

"Uh… I prefer the standard hello, but is Tyson dressed to you too."

Hilary rolled her eyes skyward; the amusement within Ray's jeer did not go far with her today. Rather, she let out an annoyed huff of air, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder as she flaunted her hips in front of her bedroom mirror.

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes," she explained to him flatly. His quick response was to laugh dryly into the receiver, causing her to frown.

"Oh, that's right! It's wedding day."

"I'm sure you forgot," Hilary accused.

"Nah, you're right. I wrote it down on the calendar," he paused, making a humming noise before continuing, "Yeah… it definitely says: 'the day Hilary will live to regret.' I can't quite get what I meant by that title though…."

The brunette scowled at her reflection, twisting her body to the right for a better angle. "Can you just tell me if Tyson is ready?"

"Why? Are you planning on matching?"

"Someone's being elusive."

Ray snorted, "I'd rather be elusive than a liar."

"Oh, here we go again…," Hilary muttered, grabbing the phone from the crook of her neck. "So, what? You're not going to tell me a thing about Tyson because I'm a _liar_?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "What do you say about that?"

"Max is way cooler than you."

Ray chuckled, expressing that there weren't any hard feelings between the two. "You can talk to him then," he retorted and after a moment's silence she overheard an exchange in the background.

"Hello…?" came the reluctant greeting of the blond. He sounded somewhat off; weary at the concept of them talking.

"Hey Max," she said carefully, "Do you think you can do me a tiny favour?"

"Another one, you mean," he murmured, shuffling a bit on his end of the line, "As long as I don't have to go over to your house…."

Hilary's eyes narrowed, turning away from the mirror, she questioned, "What's wrong with my house? Are you allergic to it or something?"

"No… that would be stupid," Max admitted, debating whether or not he should open his mouth. Letting out a light sigh, he added, "I'm allergic to your Dad."

"My _Dad_?" she repeated with awe.

"I completely see where you get it now."

"Get _what_, exactly?" Hilary demanded.

"Uh…," stalling, the blond laughed nervously, "Your energy…?"

"Mmhmm…," she grunted, deciding it was in her best interest to let his true intention go. "My Dad's a good guy, Max, honestly. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Lucky fly," Max said incredulously. "I'm not too sure if he was fond of me or Tyson though… the look in his eyes, it was freaky."

"I can't believe you're scared of my Father."

"Were you not there?" Max practically shouted, having the brunette hold the phone away from her.

"Thanks, Max," Hilary scolded, "Just what I wanted, for my ears to bleed."

"Sorry," he quickly apologized; lowering his voice considerably as she reluctantly brought the receiver closer. "So… this favour? What is it exactly?"

"Can you tell me if Tyson is dressed yet?"

"That's it?" Max asked surprised.

"That's it," she repeated.

"Are you planning on matching or something?"

Hilary smirked, "Ray already made that joke. And amazingly, it hasn't gotten funnier."

"That's the downfall of hanging around the same five people," the blond sighed, "We have the risk of all sounding the same. Except for maybe Kai…."

"Yeah, I realized he wasn't into the 'let's all make fun of Hilary' brand of joking either."

Max chuckled, "Well, I was going to say something along the lines of him being quiet… but that works too."

"What about Tyson?" the brunette asked.

"Tyson?" he repeated with amusement, "I would have thought of all people, you would know this best. It's his absolute favourite brand of joke when it is at your expense."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately I know that all too well," Hilary admitted with a sad sigh, "So is he ready or not?"

"Ready, last time I heard… for the most part. I haven't seen the latest news report," he answered with a trace of sarcasm, "But if my ears serve me correctly, I hear someone struggling with a tie."

"I see," she smiled, looking over her shoulder towards the mirror. "I know that sound well."

Max grunted in reply, allowing silence to sink in between them. "So… are you ready?" he wondered, shifting the phone slightly.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hilary shrugged, giving herself a once over. "Although I could look better. My Mom wants me to dress way too simple. With my luck, I'll be the worst dressed."

"I can't really tell from over the phone."

"Max, your flattery is absolutely amazing," she scoffed at his blunt honesty.

"I don't know what you expect me to say, seeing how your _boyfriend_ is just in the other room. It wouldn't be very appropriate for me to flirt with you," the blond mocked, defending himself.

"Well if he's in the other room," Hilary retorted with a pang of anxiety, "You shouldn't be making jokes like that."

"Relax, will you? Tyson only hears what he wants to. And I don't think he's been waiting to hear that, to tell you the truth," Max sighed, "You sound sort of uptight, are you okay?"

"Exhausted," she explained, "Between helping with the wedding and worrying over Tyson…. I haven't got much sleep. Do you think it shows?"

"Uh… Hil, I'm on the phone, remember?"

"Right," she smiled sheepishly, "Stupid question."

"Know what might help though?"

"A vast amount of make-up and a large cup of coffee?"

Max laughed, "Very close, but that would be a negative. Nothing calms the nerves quite like telling the truth! What do you say; want me to go get Tyson?"

Hilary didn't reply right away, staring steadily into the mirror with a blank expression. "You know… you're right. You and Ray _are_ starting to sound the same," she tilted her head to the side, "So when did he convert you?"

"Convert me?" he repeated, sounding disappointed, "I've always been against the idea. I just wanted to be your friend… both of your friends, at the same time."

"And I appreciate it, Max, I really do," the brunette agreed, "But to be frank, you sound like a broken record."

"Well, Frank, I can't help but feel I need to repeat myself before it sinks in. You don't seem to understand what you're doing is wrong."

"Now you kind of sound like Tyson," Hilary grimaced at his bad joke. "I do know I did something wrong, I'm trying to fix it. You guys can't seem to remember that part."

"But you're not facing the consequences, it kind of defeats the whole purpose if you avoid that step," Max pointed out, determined to set her on the right path.

"For the record, forcing your opinions on girls, Mr. Justice, isn't very attractive."

"Don't I know it."

"What?" Hilary asked surprised.

"Uh… nothing…. I'm going to hang up angrily on you now, seeing how you're not taking my warnings seriously, if that's alright," the blond explained softly, "We're still friends though, right?"

Smiling, the female rolled her eyes. "Yes, we're still friends. But I get to hang up on you next time."

"Fine," he scowled before lightly putting down the phone.

Hilary turned the phone off, tossing it onto her bed without leaving the face of the mirror. Her hands were positioned on her hips as she again twisted from side to side slowly, moving her legs in the process.

"That's an interesting dance."

The brunette froze, her face reddening at the same time. Laughing, her Father walked into the room, amusement lighting up his gaze as a grin embraced his features. On the contrary, Hilary ducked her head out of embarrassment.

"You know, I use to do something very similar when I was much younger," the man stated, taking a seat on her bed. He leaned forward on his knees with a thoughtful look, "Of course, I use to do it when I had to go to the washroom."

The brunette groaned in disdain, "Dad…."

"What?" Mr. Tatibana grinned, "It's all in good, clean fun."

"Right…," she said skeptically. Her eyes reluctantly met his again, shyly rocking on her heels. "How long were you there?"

"Oh, just passing by. Why? Were you talking to your boyfriend?" he inquired, his joyful expression depleting.

"Nope. Just Max."

"I see," he acknowledged with a nod. "You look pretty, by the way."

Hilary shrugged, looking down. She had to disagree, finding that the simple black dress made her hips look large. "Thanks, I guess. Mom _suggested_ it, if you know what I mean. I'm sure it will knock Tyson out," she added, "Maybe into a coma…."

"Hmm," Mr. Tatibana grunted, not holding much remorse for her last statement. "Know what might help, a nice shawl?"

"A nice _shawl_?" Hilary gaped at her Father incredulously; her eyes were wide with alarm. "How about I go call Grandma and see if she has matching knee high socks to boot?"

"Young lady," he warned, attempting to hold a serious tone, "You're going to wear something over your shoulders. Don't make me go get your Mother."

Hilary raised an eyebrow at his statement, suppressing the want to giggle at his sudden strict behaviour. Calling his bluff, she inched towards her doorway. "How about I call her for you then…," she told him, sticking her head out into the hallway. "Mom! Can you come up here for a second?"

Mr. Tatibana nearly collapsed into his hands, concealing his face from his daughter. "Why did you have to call your Mother…," he muttered, rubbing his eyes in a pattern.

Hilary wandered back into the center of the room, hands folded together behind her, as she gave him an innocent look. "But Dad… I thought you wanted Mom to get involved."

"My daughter, the comedian," he commented with deadpan. Removing his hands from his face, he smoothed out his clothes; hearing the familiar squeak of the stairs.

It wasn't long before Hilary's Mother entered the room with a concerned expression. Her eyes traveled over her daughter at first; from head to toe she evaluated her. And then her gaze turned to her husband seated on the bed wearing an apologetic smile.

"What's wrong…?" she questioned, deflating.

"Dad thinks it would be a good idea if I wore a shawl to the wedding," Hilary explained, "So it will cover my shoulders."

"In my defence," he jumped in, almost literally, as he bolted upwards, "They're in dire need of covering."

"There are straps!"

"Well, there should be more."

"_Children_," Mrs. Tatibana interrupted, crossing her arms. Silence followed begrudgingly before she faced Hilary, "You know a shawl might not be a bad idea, it might even help out your hips."

Mr. Tatibana, who had been ready to pump his arm in victory, came to a screeching halt. He sucked in his lips, holding his breath hostage, as he cautiously eyed his daughter.

"How about I just put a bag over my head?" Hilary retorted, moving for the door. Unfortunately, she was seized by a comforting grasp.

"Hey, hey… don't be mad at me," her Father sighed, pulling her back for a hug. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side. "I wanted you to wear a shawl because I'm insecure about your boyfriend. Remember, I said you were pretty?"

"Thanks," Mrs. Tatibana glared at her husband. "You know I didn't mean it like _that_, Hilary. I was just trying to appeal to the problem in a girly perspective."

"Fine…," Hilary decided, "It might help my hip situation…." She then looked up to her Father thoughtfully, "And if it will stop you from hounding on Tyson all night, I guess it won't be that bad."

"Aw, that's not going to happen at all," he smiled genuinely, kissing the top of her head. "But thank you for humouring me honey, I appreciate it."

"Now that all that drama has been taken care of…," Hilary's Mother smiled, "I can just grab a nice white shawl out of my closet for you. Just tie it loosely over your shoulders and you'll look perfect."

The girl rolled her eyes, escaping her Father's embrace reluctantly as she trailed behind her Mom. "Thanks for the suggestion…."

"You know what though, your Grandma is probably already on her way," Mr. Tatibana sighed, managing to confuse his daughter. She peered over her shoulder as he entered the hallway. He shook his head sadly, "I guess those knee high socks are completely out of the question."

With the comment, her ruby gaze lit up. "My Father, the clown," Hilary mocked, making him laugh.

Mrs. Tatibana, on the other hand, stared at them oddly. During their quick exchange, she had somehow retrieved the light shawl from the organized depths that was their closet. Putting it around their daughter's shoulders, she turned curiously to her husband, "Can you check how it's going in the backyard? I'm scared to look."

"Scared to look? I thought you slept back there yesterday…," he murmured, obeying orders and descending the stair case. "You both look beautiful," he added afterwards, shouting the compliment on his way out.

"Are you okay?" Mrs. Tatibana inquired, tying the shawl, "You look a little sickly."

Hilary wouldn't have doubted it. Her stomach felt like it was churning, mixing vile that managed to just sit in her throat. "Nervous," she stated knowingly, "Do you know if Tyson is here?"

"No," the older woman answered. A smile then appeared on her lips as she smoothed out of the fabric, "But I told someone to come fetch you if any cute boys stopped by."

"_Mom_…," Hilary whined at the thought, wanting to bolt for her bedspread and be buried in it once again. It was an odd feeling, the battle between paling out of mortification and turning absolutely scarlet because of embarrassment. She wasn't even too sure who had won out.

"Oh, calm down," her Mother assured her, hands lightly positioned on her shoulders. "You're fretting over the smallest things lately, it's pretty silly."

"You mean like flower arrangements and chairs?"

Flashing a wry smile, the older woman held a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You're a lot like your Father, you know that?" she shook her head, "Both of you think you're hilarious."

"For me," she decided with a faint smile, "It's more of a know factor."

Mrs. Tatibana squeezed her shoulders; turning toward the stairs as someone came bouncing up them. "Looks like your messenger is here."

"Hilary!" a little girl shouted, reaching the very last step with a huff. She was wearing a puffy white dress decorated with flowers and her brown hair was tied into pig tails. "My Mom told me to tell you a cute boy was here for you." She had run over to Mrs. Tatibana by this time, latching herself onto her side with her head tilted upwards. Curling her nose, she added, "But I've seen him… and I don't think so."

"Well, that must be Tyson," Hilary realized. She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle her laughter; the little girl still held a look of absolute disgust. "Can you tell me where you saw him?"

"Out front on the sidewalk. He looked like he might take off at any second," the girl gave her a pointed look, "I'd let him, if I were you."

Hilary snorted. "As much as I would love to, he's my date," she sighed, "I should go make sure he doesn't bolt on me."

"You're acting like he has cold feet," Mrs. Tatibana stated in amusement. Hilary smiled wanly at this before shrugging. She separated from her Mother's grasp, heading for the stairs. "Don't be shy."

"Am I ever?" Hilary muttered, taking the steps carefully because of her shoes. They lifted her off the ground by at least an inch, but it might as well been three feet. Luckily for her, nobody was hanging around in the front foyer of her home to watch her wobble after especially long paces.

Making it to the door, she took a deep breath. She touched up her hair and smoothed her dress, and then remembered on the other side, it was only Tyson. It didn't really matter what he thought.

Hilary opened the door, revealing the dolled up front yard. White and pink balloons were attached to practically everything that was nailed down, and ribbons always hung near by. Something made her frown though; there was no annoying world champion to be seen.

She wandered off of her front step curiously, looking around for the boy as anxious thoughts began to bubble towards the surface. If that little girl saw him, there was a good chance someone else had too. They could have dragged him to the back….

"Ahh!"

She found herself flying forward; the heel of her shoe had gotten wedged between a crack in the sidewalk when she had been daydreaming. But someone had stepped in front, preventing her fall, yet allowing her to crash hard against them. Hilary winced at the pain as hands pushed her gently away.

"Baby's first steps." The brunette looked up to see Tyson smiling contently. He helped her regain her balance, still holding onto her shoulders. "So close, yet so far."

"Where did you come from?" she tilted her head to the side, nursing her forehead from where she banged into him.

"What? No thank you?" Tyson grinned, dusting off his tuxedo with fake arrogance. "I am appalled! But not really surprised…. To tell you the truth, I was just waiting around for you to come out."

Hilary gave him an even look, "You know, that works better when you ring the doorbell."

"I didn't want to disturb anyone," the navy haired boy reasoned, giving a shrug. His smile vanished though when she zoned out, it felt like her gaze traveled right through him. "Uh… Hil?"

She bit her lip; words would simply not reach her mouth. He stood there in plain day, a serious expression etched out on his face, although she now realized, because of her, it was turning confused. He was wearing a black suit with matching dress shoes and tie; not even his white dress shirt had a crease in it. He was a prime example of picture perfection. All except for one minor detail.

"What is on your head?" Hilary broke the silence; her eyes were wide with panic as she gestured weakly.

Tyson relaxed, rolling his eyes in the process. "The same thing that's _always_ on my head," he answered knowingly, "My hat."

The brunette took a step forward, almost closing in the space between them. "Are you telling me you're aware that you're wearing that thing?" she inquired skeptically, "Have you gone mad? You can't wear hats to weddings!"

"Before you start your lecture," he warned, raising his hands in defence, "I think it's important that you know I have a good reason."

"If you say hat hair, I swear…."

"Uh… of course not," Tyson laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "That would be the most immature answer ever. I've come a long way, you know? I outrank that sort of stuff."

"Mmhmm," Hilary nodded, reaching forward carefully and snatching the cap from off of his head. Waving it in front of him, she smiled, "I guess you won't mind if I take this for the day then?"

"Well, I didn't give you _my_ reason yet," Tyson reminded, although he didn't attempt to grab his prized possession back. Rather, he shoved his hands into his pockets with a pout, "Talk about unfair."

"Tell me," the brunette shrugged.

"Heh… um, you know, it's not very important."

"That's what I thought," Hilary told him. "Come on, I'll put it in my room. Otherwise, it might be taken by little kids and ruined…. They kind of like to do that on this side of the family."

"Oh, sounds lovely," Tyson said sarcastically, he followed behind as they retreated for the house. Running a hand through his hair, he gave her a nervous glance. "You'll make sure it will be kept in a safe place, right? It's kind of like an heirloom."

She glanced back at him as they reached the door, realizing his sincerity. "Of course," she reassured him, "I didn't know it meant that much to you."

"Hiro gave it to me," Tyson stated, giving a faint smile. "It used to be his. Looks better on me… but you know."

Opening the door for them, Hilary repeated herself, "I didn't know."

"Probably because it's a boring story," Tyson grinned, shrugging the fact off as he walked into the familiar room. "Have I ever told you about the time I won my second championship in a row though? That's a good one."

She scowled, smacking him on the arm. "I was there, in case you forgot."

He quirked his head to the side curiously with an amused expression. "Were you really? What section exactly? It was a huge stadium."

"Please, you must save this sense of humour for the dinner," Hilary rolled her eyes, heading for the staircase. "You'll have the whole wedding party rolling in the aisles."

"I can't help it," Tyson said in an attempt at modesty, he covered his heart with a hand. "You just set yourself up _perfectly_."

Hilary ignored him, climbing the stairs yet again with an elegant pace. The last thing she needed to do was face plant right in front of him; he would have ammunition for the rest of the night. But Tyson was practically on her heels, waiting for the blessed moment.

"Better be careful," he warned as they reached the top, "You know how you fare on straight walkways…. I'll let you in on a trick, you put one foot in front of the other – that always works for me."

"Would you like to try and walk in heels?" the brunette challenged, turning to look at Tyson and almost tripping in the process.

His hand reached out and grabbed her for balance, a smirk twisting onto his lips. She waited for a second, anticipating his insult, but instead he just helped her down the hallway. "Know what I don't get?" he finally asked, "Why I have the option to wear heels and not my hat. What do you think will grab more attention?"

"Good point," Hilary agreed, deciding not to press her luck. "I guess you won't be wearing heels either."

He frowned, "Darn. And I was really looking forward to it too."

The brunette separated from his grasp, walking into her room as Tyson lingered out in the hallway. He leaned against the door frame, gazing around the room with interest. She attempted to forget about him for a second, trying to place where she could hide his hat, but it proved impossible. The expression on his face was bothering her.

"What?"

His eyes returned to her at the sound of her voice. "I thought there would be more pink," Tyson said thoughtfully, "You being a girl and all."

"I prefer yellow," Hilary stated, "And not all girls like the colour pink. Can you say stereotype?"

"I was just saying," he rolled his eyes, "Leave it to you to go off the deep end. Besides, if anyone here would know about stereotypes, it would be me. How about dumb jock?"

She tilted her head to the side in question. "When have I ever called you that?"

"I didn't say you did," Tyson smiled, wandering into the bedroom. His attention went to the mirror with a smile, "You're different from people who think like that. You don't consider me a jock."

Hilary laughed, watching him play with his hair in the mirror in an attempt to fix it. She took the moment to covertly put the hat in one of her drawers, all the while, making sure it was tucked away safe.

"It looks fine," the girl smiled, seeing his annoyed expression. "I think that must be a fun house mirror anyway, I can't help but feel horrible whenever I look into it."

Tyson looked at her through the reflection, his eyebrows raised with surprise. "I think you look great… in a non-weird way," he quickly added, shooting off a sheepish smile. "But my hair looks like a hurricane whipped right pass me on the way here. Always a great style to have for weddings."

"I think it kind of suits you," Hilary decided, "It's about as unruly and spontaneous as you, it's endearing."

The navy haired boy didn't say anything for a moment, giving himself one last look over. He turned to face her with a grin, "You're right. I think I'm over-reacting about my hair anyway, acting like a girl…."

"Stereotype," she interrupted.

"Whatever," he waved it off carelessly, pulling at the sleeves of his tux. "So what was wrong with you, according to the mirror, I mean?"

Hilary was reluctant to say, this conversation about flaws seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. Because of his massive ego, she would not have even believed he had an unconfident bone in his body. "Hips," she said with apprehension, "According to my Mom as well."

"Really?" Tyson said with awe, "Uh… about your Mom, of course. I wouldn't know about the hip thing… I don't really look at you like that… like… uh…. You look nice."

"I figured as much," Hilary nodded, suppressing her laughter for his sake. "Can you promise me something though?"

"It all really depends."

"Reliable," she retorted sarcastically. "It would mean a lot if you didn't make any stupid jokes about my Grandma and I matching."

"Will you be…?" Tyson inquired.

"The shawl."

"Oooh…," the navy haired boy realized, snapping his fingers with understanding. "I know what you mean; my Grandpa ruined Hawaiian shirts for me. If I wear them, I'm afraid I'll start talking like him…."

"Thanks, Tyson."

"Hey, no problem," he flashed her a smile, smoothing out his clothing yet again. Noticing her puzzled expression, he explained, "I'm a little nervous. I've never been to a wedding before. Have you?"

Hilary couldn't help but smile back at him, he seemed very hopeful for her answer. "When I was younger," she told him, though that made her sound a lot older than she was. "I don't remember much, other than sitting in a hot room wearing an itchy dress and shoes that really hurt my feet. I had blisters for weeks, but I think that was because of the buckles…."

"Fascinating…."

"Well, that's mostly what I remember. We're just sitting in chairs, I've seen you do it before, you're not bad at it," the brunette shot back.

"I completely blow your walking skills out of the water," Tyson agreed. "Although if we were in water, technically we would be swimming…."

She didn't say anything to that, feeling that there was no point for it. She just stood across from him, finding that he truthfully did not look half bad, considering he _was_ Tyson.

"What did you do with my hat?" he frowned, noticing within the silence that it had disappeared into thin air. He glanced around the room in confusion, expecting it to be somewhere.

"I hid it, remember?"

"I know that, but you couldn't even show me where?"

Hilary gave him an odd look. "What does it matter?"

Tyson took a step forward; a challenge was within his eyes. Wetting his lips, he asked, "What did you do?"

"I'm… sorry?" she stuttered against her best wishes, side stepping the boy in the process. "I don't know what you're talking about, but we should go downstairs. A lot of guests are probably here by now."

"Whatever you say…," he grinned, but his suspicion did not relent whatsoever. "You're keeping my hat hostage for some reason… and I'm going to find out why. Hilary Tatibana, I will know your secret by the end of tonight."

She did not like the sound of that.


	6. Chapter 5: One Step At A Time

**A/N**: Chapter time! Honestly, the events that will occur in this chapter were supposed to take up, roughly, one eighth of the original. Of course, it grew to a rather large length… all considering. Anyway, I say this because I'm a little unsure about how it turned out; I think it's a little slow. And considering the plot, maybe too soon. So… constructive criticism is highly valued.

Thanks goes out to **AJ**, **lilwolf99**, **Christin**, **Hunny****Spectrum**, **Sony89**, **chicago77**, **Unfunny****Joke**, **distantheart**, **kithle**, **Musee.Picasso**, **sanaa**, **stilted-stylus** and **Garowyn**.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Five: One Step At A Time

"You can tell me, you know? I doubt it's going to be something outrageous… we _are_ talking about you," though she had been descending the stairs, Hilary could practically feel Tyson's grin from behind. "Did you forget something? Like… the napkin dispensers! You forgot to fill them, didn't you?"

The brunette stopped in the midst of stepping, fortunately for her clumsy self, Tyson was a safe distance behind, so he had not collided into her. Holding onto the railing, she turned to face him, shooting him an annoyed look. Figuring she was about to give in, he stopped as well.

"Give it a rest," she told him evenly, positioning herself carefully onto a single stair. "I hid it, so what? Suddenly it's like I'm planning some… some kind of thing!"

"So you admit it," Tyson acknowledged, making her scoff. "You hid it so I couldn't leave. You need me for something, or as you put it, some _kind_ of thing."

Hilary stared at him blankly, his proud façade growing as he leaned against the railing a few steps higher. "I think you're acting just a little bit paranoid," she stated, poised rigidly in comparison. "You asked me to, so I did."

"No," he disagreed, waving a finger in challenge, "You took it right off my head and said the kids here were monsters."

"I never said they were monsters," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "They've been known to ruin things."

"We're at a wedding," the navy haired boy said, "I have this overwhelming feeling that their parents will keep them on their best behaviour. You know, so they won't overturn the cake."

"I'm amazed, you've actually lost it," she scowled, "I didn't hide your hat so you couldn't leave. I didn't even know you were going to bring it at all."

"Doesn't matter. You saw it so you used it. I'm impressed, really. Who knew you had a conniving side?" Tyson quirked his head in analysis.

"Desk drawer."

"I'm sorry?"

"My devious plan is no more," she mocked, waving her fingers mysteriously at him. "I put your hat in my desk drawer. Happy now?"

He stepped down, levelling out their height somewhat. "I didn't even see you go near your desk," he replied suspiciously, "You were by your dresser."

She stifled the urge to bite her lip, placing her hands on her hips. "Gee, I guess I was just trying to throw you off," she explained, "I'm conniving, remember?"

"Yeah, that means you lie," he flashed a smile out of amusement. "Want to give me a reason why I should believe you now?"

"You were playing with your hair in the mirror, I guess you were too busy worrying about yourself to even notice what I was doing," Hilary lied, forcing a tired expression.

His narrowed gaze relented, releasing some of the tension that rode on the brunette's shoulders. Tyson had this air to him now, almost mocking as he appeared to be contradicting her. He was not being serious in the least, and this managed to bother her.

"I miss this," he stated bluntly, gesturing around him with a single fluid movement. Lost, Hilary watched him blankly, waiting for a further explanation. "These stupid fights. You know the pointless ones? Keeps us on our toes."

"You enjoy them?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I know I wasn't being serious," Tyson replied, descending another stair to be beside her. "You doing something devious is like me getting perfect attendance. I'm well aware you didn't kidnap my hat for top secret alternative motives."

He was laughing as relief washed over Hilary, making the muscles that pulled her smile loosen. "I'm glad that's settled," she said, trying to determine whether or not she should be offended.

"I was just joking around," he repeated, having the feeling he needed to reassure her yet again. For some reason she was on edge and attempting to disclose it from his already knowing gaze. "Although bugging you reminds me of old times."

"I don't know about you, but I certainly don't consider last week an old time," she smirked.

Tyson regarded her with interest, "Touché."

His comment did not relinquish his gaze though and he was watching her with an indefinable expression. "What…?" she asked reluctantly, feeling slightly self-conscious. This merely made him chuckle at her expense as he offered her his arm.

"It will be a win/win situation," he explained thoughtfully, afraid that she may misinterpret his action. "You'll be able to walk and I'll make a good impression. Plus… who wouldn't want to be seen with me?"

The brunette didn't take his arm, or do anything for the matter. She merely blanked out, looking at his arm in a trance. She could practically feel Tyson's confusion crack in the air as his limb went weak against his side.

"I was just kidding about the last one," he mumbled honestly, shooting his attention down the stairway. He was thankful nobody was around to witness that as the awkwardness of what happened began to sink in.

Hilary winced at her own behaviour, feeling sorry just at the sight of the boy beside her. "We need to talk," she said simply, hoping it justified her actions.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, although he decided not to face her quite yet. "I get it…," he said in a monotone voice, and she held her breath just in case he didn't. "You're breaking up with me."

Tyson gave her a saddened sideway glance, making her smile. "I'd have to be insane to do something like that," Hilary stated, and ironically, for today, it was the truth.

"So I don't have to change? I don't need to alter my personality to fit your needs?" he beckoned, sitting down on the staircase. He rested his arms on top of his knees and tilted his head to see her, "I think you're just saying that."

"I didn't say anything," she rolled her eyes playfully; contemplating whether or not she should sit down beside him. "You're full of stories today."

"I do have an imagination," he agreed, "One that's wondering what we're really supposed to be talking about."

"Right… that. I want to level with you about something, Tyson," she told him.

"Then sit down," he shrugged, "That way I won't hurt myself looking up at you."

She complied, though not for the sake of the muscles in his neck. She would rather be on the same basis for height as well, it gave her groundings. "My Father's side isn't very close knit," she said bluntly.

"Oh?" he acknowledged, not knowing where this was going. And Hilary couldn't help but feel this small word was a tad bit forced.

"Yeah, we rarely see each other."

"Then we have something in common," Tyson pointed out, "It's almost like my Dad's whole side is into the archaeology field… I don't see them at all, unless it's a holiday. If I'm lucky."

Hilary had never seen him look so vulnerable, reaching for his absent hat out of habit. Catching himself grasping for air, he ran his fingers through his navy hair. He just held his hand there in the midst of his thoughts, completely tuning her out.

"That's sweet, Tyson," the brunette smiled fondly, it were moments like these she remembered he was truly a soft person.

He gave her an odd stare, "What is?"

"That you miss them," she explained, her smile broadening.

"I never said I did," he countered, avoiding her amusement by ducking his head down. His dark bangs covered his eyes as he did so, his fingers brushing through the blue locks.

"Aww," she mocked, elbowing him in the side playfully. "I would have to disagree; your actions do the talking for you. Unless you're trying to say you're not embarrassed?"

"Good one," he retorted, slightly smiling at her sudden change in attitude. "Not all families are tight."

"Well at least yours has an excuse," Hilary sighed, her demeanour changing slightly. She stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at her ankles. "Want to know why we get together on holidays? Because we feel inclined to, we have to blind ourselves to the truth apparently. Just because we play family three days of the year doesn't mean we are one."

"I think I get what you mean," he said, lifting his head up somewhat. "My family gets together because they want to when they can. Your family gets together because they have to when they should."

"Lovely thought, isn't it?" she frowned, "And now we're welcoming someone else into this wonderful scheme of things."

"With optimism like that, you were meant for the podium," Tyson smirked, having gotten over his embarrassed hunch. He wrapped a loose arm over her shoulder, trying to save her from the same fate. "You could possibly make the best speech ever."

"One that everybody would remember," she glanced at him, "Too bad it's a taboo topic."

"I can't imagine why."

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Hilary stated, expressing her position. "It just makes days like today extremely awkward."

Tyson became perplexed, leaning further back on the stairs in question. "Why would today be awkward?" he inquired.

"Well, it's kind of why I brought up the subject," the brunette admitted, giving a meek smile. "They can't remember what they have or haven't asked me, nor can they keep their answers straight…. So you might be in a bind."

"What kind of bind?" he wondered, not sounding at all angry. On the other hand, he seemed curious, staring at her with intent. "Are they going to pull me aside and drill me for answers?"

Hilary honestly hadn't thought of that, and although it sounded like an absurd concept, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised. "Let's just hope that doesn't happen…," she uttered weakly, the churning in her stomach picking up again.

"And if it does, so what?" Tyson smiled warmly, noticing the sudden unnerved look she had on her face. "I'm not going to tell them your deepest, darkest secrets."

"You don't know any," she frowned.

He raised an eyebrow, "That's because I didn't know you actually had some. What's the worst thing you've ever done? Forget to raise your hand in class?"

Hilary glared at him half heartedly, trying not to push the subject much further. "I've done some things I've lived to regret," she defended herself, although Tyson still seemed disbelieving, "Believe me."

"Hey, I want to," he shrugged nonchalantly, "But you're pretty close to perfection, or at least, that's what you make yourself up to be."

Taken back by the comment, she scoffed in refusal. "Oh, I do not," Hilary argued, twisting her body to face him at a better angle. "Are you _actually_ calling me a perfectionist? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"I didn't say nothing like that," Tyson said innocently, his quirky smile placed onto his lips.

"You didn't say anything," the brunette corrected, making him grin widely. "It's a double negative, meaning you said…. Oh. Shut-up, Tyson."

"Hil, you're a perfectionist," the navy haired boy stated, calming his amusement. "Sort of like I'm a slacker; you can't really fight it. Everything has to be just right."

"I know what being a perfectionist means," she shot back. "I try for my best, not the world's."

"But isn't that one in the same?" he retorted.

"No," Hilary disagreed, "Listen, I'm not a perfectionist and I've done some stupid things. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Thank you."

"No problem," he waved off her forced comment. "If you want to join the mess up club, go right on ahead. I just thought you would've liked the other group better, princess."

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Well your royal highness, even the best fall from grace. Aren't you daily living proof of that?"

Tyson grunted, not at all offended. He did live for these exchanges of wits, even though at times it did not express them at their best. "So I'm in a bind," he reminded.

"Yeah," she agreed lightly, "You see, they might say… some strange things to you."

"Define strange," he frowned.

"Let me put it this way," Hilary offered, making him even more confused. "I'm their female relative that they don't know much about. You're the male friend that coincidentally is here because… I needed a _favour_. What does that make us, do you think?"

"Uh…," Tyson answered slowly, "Human beings?"

She frowned, giving him an even look. "No, that would be the wrong answer. Let me simplify this for you," she sighed, "I'm a girl. You're a boy. What do you think you're here for?"

"Sammy?" he said incredulously.

"Yes Tyson," Hilary retorted sarcastically, "That makes us Sammy, everything is so clear now."

"That was the last question!"

"Girl," she pointed to herself before jerking an accusing finger at him, "Boy. What does that mean?"

Tyson sat silently, giving her a blank look. "I'm scared to answer, you'll yell at me again if I get it wrong."

The brunette scowled, "No I won't."

"_Right_."

"What are we Tyson?" she asked carefully.

He shrugged in reply. "Friends?"

"No!"

His expression twisted into confusion, leaning back somewhat in a state of surprise. "We're not?" Tyson questioned dumbly, his arm retreating from behind her. "But I thought…."

"Not to them," Hilary interrupted, easing his reaction. "I know we're friends… temperamental, opinionated and stubborn friends, but friends. But to them, we're a boy and a girl at a wedding."

"On a platonic date," he nodded in agreement.

"But they don't know that," she stressed.

Tyson shrugged again, "So tell them."

"But we can't!" Hilary shouted, making him jump. "We wouldn't want to embarrass them, especially about such a delicate situation."

"They should be embarrassed though," he explained to her, dismissing the thought. He pushed himself up with his hands, finding himself standing on a stair a few down from Hilary. "You're their grandchild, niece, cousin… they should know you."

"Yeah…," she agreed reluctantly, "But…."

"No buts," he shook his head, his navy hair free to move without the restricting hat. "If they ask me anything about you, I'm telling them the truth. You deserve it, Hil. You're a great person; they don't know what they're missing out on."

In silence, she stared up at him, a mix of feelings crashing around in her brain. As angry as she was that she couldn't trick Tyson into lying for her, another part of her was pleasantly surprised by his sincerity. Hilary smiled softly, her gaze falling slowly to concentrate on her shoes.

"It took me forever to get my make-up right…," she finally murmured.

"I'm not following…?"

"Don't make me cry!"

"Oh," he said in realization, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well then… Hilary?" he said finally, and she glanced up at him, "You should have taken a little longer, you look like a raccoon."

She gaped at him, "Tyson!"

"What?" he grinned, "You said you didn't want to cry… so I thought I'd make you angry."

Hilary brought her hands to her cheeks in worry, looking up at him. "Do I really look like a raccoon?"

Tyson rolled his eyes, "Especially when you do that, you look like you're trying to fix your hair."

"You're lucky I'm in heels."

He laughed nonchalantly, smoothing out his tuxedo. "I was just kidding, you look nice," he stated, "We both do, if I do say so myself. I just didn't want you to worry so much… it's not like you're making the life altering decision here."

"I guess."

"Well, I know," Tyson challenged, "Nobody here got down on their knee or asked you to run away with them… to my knowledge. You're just a girl, remember that."

Hilary frowned, "Well that's sort of depressing."

"I seriously don't think you know what you want," he shook his head in defeat, smirking at his continuous failed attempts to say something that pleased her. "I'm sorry you're not getting married."

"And I'm sorry I didn't take your arm when you offered," she apologized.

"Who said the offer was gone?" Tyson smiled. He seized her hands, pulling her gently upward so that she didn't fall. That didn't stop her from trying though, and he bit his lip stifling the urge to laugh as he balanced her. "This is going to be a fun night."

"Yeah, I can only imagine how beat up my legs are going to look tomorrow," Hilary agreed with a sigh, swaying from side to side uneasily on her heels.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, steadying her on the stair. Her appreciative smile vanished after a few moments, replaced with a lost look.

"Because I'll be falling… that was the joke," she explained to him slowly, "I'll be bruised all over. Do you get it?"

"I haven't let you fall yet," Tyson smiled, gripping her hands tightly for a squeeze. "And I'm not going to; tonight I'll be your legs. Wherever you need to go, I'll be at your side."

"Then I'd think you'd be my crutch," Hilary said appreciatively, smiling gently back at him. "I can't thank you enough for today; so far you've been really great."

"Well I've only really seen you," he told her, realizing he hadn't done anything yet. "So you better hold your thanks. You know me; trouble likes to trip me up."

The brunette merely smirked, pushing him lightly as their hands remained entwined. He faked stumbling backwards, causing a faint girly squeal to escape Hilary's mouth. She fell forward at the same time Tyson regained his composure, their heads colliding in the space between.

"Ow," the female scowled, "What's your problem?"

Flinching from the contact as well, Tyson laughed if off. "My problem? You head butted me," he beamed, pulling her hands again, only this time he was descending the steps slowly so she could follow.

"Be careful," Hilary warned, cautiously taking his lead. She looked down, focusing on her feet as they traced his steps. She found herself being shaky, relying on her friend rather than the railing.

"You're saying that to me?" he retorted, glancing down to her feet as well, "I'm managing to go down the stairs backwards, you can't even walk a straight line without toppling onto me."

"I resent that," Hilary said distractedly, watching her feet trying to stand on solid ground. She would wobble and Tyson would adjust his grip, holding her hands high at shoulder length.

"We're almost at the bottom," he assured her, amused by the determined look on Hilary's face. "Then you can try to conquer solid ground."

"I'm more worried about the grass," she confessed with a wan smile, "What if I get stuck?"

Tyson cracked a smile of his own at the thought, giving her a playful roll of the eyes that she failed to notice. "Just be thankful you don't have quicksand in your backyard."

"What? You wouldn't save me from quicksand?" Hilary asked in mock shock, "So much for my hero."

"Hey, somehow you got Kai to actually pay for this tux," he reasoned with her, "If I come home with sand all over me… how happy do you think he'll be? And before you answer, take into account how happy he is now."

"He just expresses himself differently," the brunette defended her absent friend.

Tyson took his final step backward off the staircase, staring intently at her as she was about to do the same. "Ruined suit equals higher bill," he stated, "That equation spells out a _very_ expressive Kai."

She smirked, "I would be able to save you if I was around."

"But if you were around I wouldn't need saving."

Hilary glared at him, "Well I'm glad you got your priorities straight."

The world champion sighed, "Fine, I'll save you from the fictional quicksand if I have to. And then I'll slay the dragon and split my pot of gold with you."

Hilary paused on the last step, meeting his gaze momentarily with an incredulous stare. "That's all I've ever wanted," she decided sarcastically, "That and people to randomly burst into song around me."

"Oh, me too," he grinned. "Now, how about we take that one last step?"

"I'm fine where I am," she shrugged.

"Really?" Tyson questioned, releasing her hands unexpectedly and shuffling back somewhat. He could tell right away she felt abandoned, like someone actually kicked her crutch away. "Don't you dare touch the railing."

"Are you coming back?" Hilary asked, trying to stifle the hope that invaded her voice. "Not that I need you to."

"I haven't exactly left," he answered. "But I'll tell you what, if you jump off that step, I promise to catch you." He opened his arms wide at his statement, prepared for the deed.

"Are you insane?" she repeated in deadpan.

"Crazy to the bone," Tyson smirked, "Can you believe I'm a whole two steps away from you? There's no way I could catch you from here, I'd have to like… lean forward just to reach you."

Hilary scoffed, "I don't usually leap into the arms of my platonic dates."

"You just have trust issues," he shrugged off her excuse, "Just close your eyes and jump; if I don't catch you… stick Kai on me or something. He likes you better than me, remember?"

"And I'm the one with issues?"

"Just jump," Tyson repeated.

Hilary sighed, tightly making fists at her sides. Closing her eyes, she sprung forward; crashing into the navy haired boy as he forcefully took a few steps backward. Both remained standing though, the brunette's arms gripping Tyson's neck in a state of momentary fear.

"Thanks for the warning," he finally grunted, pushing her away as best as he could with her guillotine grip. "I said jump, not tackle."

"Sorry," Hilary apologized, giggling nervously.

"Think you could remove your nails from my neck?" Tyson smirked and she released him immediately. "Next time, remind me to let you fall."

Not finding his joke funny, she pushed him lightly in the chest. He was again sent backward, only this time, he bumped into someone. Hilary hadn't realized anyone else was in the room until this point and she stared up at the man behind Tyson with a sheepish smile.

The navy haired boy, on the other hand, sent her a curious look before tilting his head back, staring up at the figure upside down. "Oh, sorry about that Mr. Tatibana."

Hilary's Father didn't look amused, eyeing the boy he barely towered over. "What you kids doing?" he inquired indifferently, looking between his daughter and the boy.

"Nothing much," Hilary answered for the both of them, "Just heading out back, the wedding should be starting soon, right?"

"Any minute, I suppose."

Tyson faced him correctly by Hilary's side. "Then I can finally meet Sammy?"

"You told him about the Sammy thing?" Mr. Tatibana asked with surprise. He crossed his arms, revaluating his image of the boy before him. "It's really nice that you'd do that for him."

"Well when Hil told me about it, how could I resist?" Tyson shrugged nonchalantly, smothering his ego with a smile. "Children are the future."

The brunette rolled her eyes, grabbing onto Tyson's arm tightly. Being pulled somewhat, he shot her a brief glare. "You're a giver," she said lightly, "But we should really get going."

"Why?" her Father replied suspiciously, "Are you going to be late?"

"Traffic these days in this hallway is insane… if we don't leave now, who knows when we'll get there," Tyson smirked, mocking the female beside him.

Regardless, she tightened her grip with an innocent smile. "Just want to show off the world champion beyblader," she reasoned, almost grimacing at her own words.

Tyson eyed her, raising an eyebrow at her statement. "Right…," he agreed skeptically, "I am the kind of guy you want to show off to the family."

Mr. Tatibana ignored his comment. "World champion?"

"That's me," the boy beamed confidently.

"You guys can talk about this later," Hilary interrupted, barging into their conversation before her Father could utter another word. "Dinner or something…. We have to go outside to get good spots. I don't want to be staring at the back of someone's overdone, toxic waste of a hairdo."

"Honey, don't poke fun at your cousins," the man sighed, practically wincing at the thought of a similar fate.

Tyson grinned, "Yeah honey, just because they don't look half as good as you doesn't mean you can rag on their hair."

Mr. Tatibana smiled oddly at the navy haired boy's words, giving his daughter an amused expression as he slightly wiggled his eyebrows. "Guess you two should be going… outside, where people are," he nodded toward the backdoor with a jerk of his head.

"Nice talking to you, sorry she's in such a hurry," Tyson replied, shoving his hands loosely into his pockets. "Women, eh?"

"Don't I know it."

Hilary scowled, shooting her Father a glare before stomping away with Tyson in tow. "He's obviously gone insane…," she muttered to herself, much to the boy's confusion, "Getting along with Tyson… come on."

"Is he supposed to have something against me?" he retorted, "I can't think of a single thing I've done wrong."

"Why don't you guys just go golfing…?"

Realizing she just ignored him, he frowned. "I don't care for golf; you have to walk too much."

She spared him a glance, "Shut-up."

Coming to a halt in the hallway, Tyson managed to get Hilary to stop as well. "Want to tell me what's so bad about me and your Dad getting along? I didn't realize there were rules against this… does this go against your plan?"

Hilary paused, considering the fact that he was grinning by the time he got to his last question. He ultimately did have a point, there were no rules refusing the thought of them actually getting along. It did make things easier for her after all.

"You know…," she said sweetly, almost too much so for his tastes, "You're absolutely right. My plan could benefit from this."


	7. Chapter 6: Cheaters Never Prosper

**A/N**: Sheesh. In all truth this chapter literally took me two weeks to write within July… about a week ago. This is where I could babble about excuses for my lack of updates – graduation, exams, other hectic school schedules – but really, it's because finding the time to write is seriously dwindling. And the most frustrating for me is that lately I haven't been feeling very well, and although this is the time of year I update far more often than usual, I fear that shan't be happening. I'll just leave it at that.

I _am_determined to not let this die for another nearly 5 months though. Augh on hiatuses.

I didn't do a whole lot of editing this time, so if you see any mistakes, please tell me. I highly appreciate it. Oh, and from this point on, people will be introduced as relatives to Hilary... but do not worry about names and all that. People will be essential to the chapter they are in and tossed aside accordingly. The last thing I need is OC mayhem.

Thank you to those that beared through such a long wait… hopefully I didn't lose anyone in the process. Thanks especially goes out to **sanaa**, **Sony89**, **Musee.Picasso**, **Unfunny Joke**, **ToraHimeSama**, **Garowyn**, **Aiyanne** and **Tinkerbell04** for reviewing, you're what makes writing worth it. A response to what you have worked so hard on, I hope to hear from you again.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade right now. Odds are, I never will.

Chapter Six: Cheaters Never Prosper

"You didn't help with the decorating, did you?" Tyson piped up curiously, stepping out into the backyard with Hilary in tow. He sent her a wary gaze, attempting not to cringe at the sight. "Not that it's terrible or anything… just girly. So girly you could choke on it. This is no man wedding."

"What's a man wedding exactly…?" Hilary countered, giving him a sigh. "Last time I checked boys ate worms when they were little, girls fascinated about this day."

"That can't be true. I've never eaten a worm in my life. What do you have to say about that?"

"I'm a little surprised. You eat everything else."

Clutching his side in mock pain, Tyson pretended to double forward. "Oh Hilary, that was – that, what you just said – that was hysterical. My side is splitting from laughing so hard."

The brunette grabbed him by his elbow, tugging him along to his full height. "Stop acting like such a spaz," she told him earnestly, "You're not Tyson world champion beyblader here, you're my… uh…."

"Incredibly handsome friend?" he filled in for her, sending her a puzzled glance. "I thought the whole point of me being here _was_ because I am a champion though? Not because I'm your 'uh' as you so put it."

"Right. But… some people are going to think you have mixed motives, remember? Maybe you're doing this for another reason."

"Oh," he uttered dumbly, unclear about what she was trying to say. Yet after a second, it began to sink in and he tensed at the prospect, "_Oh_. I see what's going on."

Hilary's eyebrows creased together, her fingers that remained on his arm constricted with thought as well. "What do you mean?" she murmured under her breath, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Don't get me wrong," he waved his hand at her absently, his head bowed down. "You have a thing for me, it's perfectly natural."

"No… no it's not," Hilary disagreed blankly, allowing herself to pull a face. "And it's not true. I don't like you like that…. That's just…. Where did you get that from?" she searched his expression to no avail and he managed to stare back to the same extent.

"I'm not stupid. You were sending some pretty good signs. I don't know how to tell you this though…," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against him, "I don't know if I feel the same."

"Great. Can you stop suffocating me?"

Tyson loosened his grip sheepishly, still letting his head duck down nearly beside hers. "I'm not trying to break your heart…," he started again, making Hilary take a deep breath.

"Will you please just lay off," she snapped lowly, prying him further away with her elbow. "Whatever possessed you to think I was into you, just let it go. It's wrong. That _thought_ is wrong."

"I wouldn't go that far," he stated, dropping his arm to his side. "Weird, not wrong. Wrong is like… robbing a bank. You liking me isn't like a criminal act, it's not against the law or anything."

"How about the law of nature?"

"Aren't we full of venom this evening?" Tyson chuckled, noting her pinched features. It was as if the very concept made her taste buds turn sour, twisting her face into a mild expression of pain.

"For one, it's the afternoon," the brunette pointed out, recovering her actions. She placed her hands on her hips as his eyes rolled skyward, "And I'm not the one blabbing on and on about nonsense."

"No, of course not… you've been making plenty of sense all day."

"Can you blame me for wanting today to be perfect?"

Tyson shot his hands up into the air with exaggeration. "It's not _your_ wedding!" he stated, his voice straining to remain calm as it bobbed against his wishes. "I just told you that, whatever your grief is… bottle it up and throw it out to sea. That's what I do."

"And that explains a lot," Hilary had given him a knowing look, glancing around to see whose attention he grabbed. "That's why you practically explode when someone gets you angry."

"And by someone, you mean you."

"It's not my fault you fly off the handle."

"You kinda know what buttons to press."

"Well, you only have so many."

"What does that even mean…?"

Jabbing a finger in his direction, Hilary smiled. "Exactly," Tyson retaliated by pushing her hand aside, sending her a disapproving stare in the process. He had opened his mouth to complain about her making even less sense than before when he was enveloped into a tight hug.

"Tyson!" Hilary's eyes widened, watching her Mother nearly crush her _boyfriend_ after appearing practically out of thin air. Mortified, she clasped her hands over top of her mouth, stifling the urge to scream with pure force. Instead she met the boy's gaze, his more stunned than anything, she watched as he slowly regained his composure.

"Mrs. Tatibana…," he replied, unsure of what he was supposed to do exactly. He reluctantly returned the hug, patting her shoulder awkwardly as he sent a pleading look to her daughter. Helplessly, Hilary shrugged her own shoulders loosely.

"Oh, it's so great to see you!" her Mother cooed, pulling away slightly so that she was gripping his arms. "It's been such a long time… you look so handsome! Don't you think so, Hilary?"

The brunette grimaced as they both turned to her expectantly; Tyson seemed especially interested, not to mention smug, at the switch in conversation. "Yeah Hil, don't you think I look outstanding tonight?"

She lowered her hands, pulling a tight smile to fool her Mother. "Oh… um, yeah… Tyson does look good tonight," she agreed lamely, "Even if he's out of his… element."

He frowned at the remark, "That was supposed to be a compliment?"

Mrs. Tatibana rolled her eyes at Hilary's behaviour, patting the boy to comfort him. "She's just being a girl; you know how they get about these sorts of things…. She's a little embarrassed; you should've seen how red she was when she was telling us all about you…."

"Oh?" Tyson raised an eyebrow, the smug expression returning to his features.

"Mom!" Hilary shouted, wobbling with determination the few steps toward them. She ended up nearly falling over, Tyson reaching out in time once again, much to her slight dismay; he pulled her up with an annoyed face.

"There she goes again," the older woman sighed dreamily, taking their closeness as a sign of love instead of the fashion casualty it was. "Although I don't see why, I'm sure Tyson complimented you too, sweetie."

"Yeah sweetheart, don't you remember?" Tyson teased with a grin. He poked her side with his elbow as payback for earlier, enjoyed by her Mother's ways of humiliation.

"Of course he did," Hilary admitted blandly, a smirk washing over her face. This made Tyson's amusement drain away and he opted to watch her carefully. "What animal did you just compare me to…?"

Blanching, Tyson paused. "Uh…," he laughed sheepishly, "A… a swan. I think that's what I said."

"Are you sure? I thought it started with an 'R'?"

"A… ravishing swan."

"Maybe."

Mrs. Tatibana smiled dreamily at the two of them, drinking in the scene of her daughter beside such a suave young man. She was nearly positive that amongst this group of boys her daughter ran around with, he was the most sought after – so quiet and mature, who could resist such a combination?

"Well, I should leave you two alone," the woman noted, feeling her presence was long overdue and that it was starting to rattle her daughter. "But I am _so_ happy you're here Tyson!" she rejoiced, crushing him with another unexpected hug, "You simply have to come over more often."

"Yeah," the world champion agreed, keeping a strong grip onto Hilary. He was a little afraid her Mom would've sent her sailing, but it was mostly for moral support, being rather uncomfortable with their proximity.

Mrs. Tatibana pushed away briskly, forcing herself to walk away from the couple out of fear she would smother them. "I'm sure Hilary would just love it if you did," she called out finally, giving him a wink.

Tyson snorted, knowing she was a safe distance away, as he waved to her in reply. Hilary, on the other hand, hung her head in shame. "I'm sure you would too, ravishing swan," he joked.

The brunette rolled her eyes, "She's a little crazy. This whole wedding was practically put together because of her, the professionals couldn't design their way out of a hat… apparently."

"They couldn't tie balloon to trees?"

She shot him a defensive look. "I think my Mom did a great job."

"Not a man wedding though."

"And again… why does that even matter?"

"Oh, it… does," Tyson started clearly, before his conviction disappeared. He seemed to have just stopped, staring absently over her shoulder with interest. But when she turned to look herself, he seized her shoulders in a panicked frenzy. "Don't look!"

Confused, she tilted her head to the side. Unfortunately for Tyson, it was the side that he had been looking over. He frowned in displeasure, her face concealing his view. "What?" Hilary scowled.

"What's her name?" he asked, sidestepping around the brunette somewhat to see _her_ again.

"How should I know? I don't even know what she looks like," she pointed out, not entirely pleased by his actions.

"Look then… just not too obviously," the navy haired boy decided, choosing to look away himself so that it wasn't obvious.

"Unlike you, I'm not gonna ogle her…." Hilary glanced in the direction she was pretty sure he had been looking, seeing a group of her female cousins. Making a face, she explained, "I don't think they're your type."

"So you do know them," he deduced with a nod, ignoring her suggestion. "Hard to believe you're related."

With a grunt, she made a subtle movement to dig her heel into his foot as carefully as possible. And much to Hilary's satisfaction, he yelped before squirming away from her. "That's what you get…," she warned him, wagging a finger petulantly in his direction.

"I guess the truth really does hurt," he retorted, spite lacing his words. She merely rolled her eyes, enjoying seeing him jump about in mild pain.

"Um… kids?" Hilary tensed at the male voice, her Father sneaking up on them once again. Unsure if he had seen this display of behaviour or not, she bit her lip as she fended off her impatience, "I thought you were going to sit down not… jump."

Following her Dad's gaze, she realized Tyson was still fumbling around with his foot awkwardly. It seemed the navy haired boy took no notice to him though, focusing with intensity downward at his wound. "Uh… Tyson's just…."

"Right," Mr. Tatibana cleared his throat, quickly jumping in. He nodded once as if remembering something before he stepped in the boy's direction, "Would you mind if I spoke to my daughter alone for a second?"

All at once, Tyson stopped bouncing around, his head shooting up to stare at him. "Of course, take as long as you'd like!" he good naturedly slapped the man on the shoulder, "I should be mingling anyway, there's a while family I haven't met yet."

"That's a good idea," her Father smiled, but he failed to see Tyson wink at Hilary before he stalked off. Much to her fury, he was headed straight for the group of her cousins; her anger managed to bubble further at the fact. "What's wrong…?"

"Nothing," the brunette seethed, her jaw clenched unwillingly together. "I'm fine."

"Okay," he said slowly, reluctant to accept her statement. Clearing his throat, Mr. Tatibana tilted his head in further wonderment, "Was that display a dose of the so called Tyson weirdness you warned me about?"

"Nope, just the Tyson stupidity…," she muttered under her breath, knowing now that her Father hadn't seen her ram her heel into his foot. "Why are boys so stupid?" she questioned loudly, staring up at her Dad. It was clear that there was no room for disagreement, her eyes blazing with undisguised annoyance.

"Uh…," the man said uneasily, scratching his head wearily. "Hard to say… I don't quite know what we're talking about."

"Nothing," Hilary huffed between gritted teeth.

"Maybe you should be talking to him after all…. Where did he run off to, anyway?" the brunette watched with interest as her Father scanned the yard. Unsurprisingly, when he did find where Tyson had successfully run off to, his expression crumbled darkly. It started with his eyebrows sinking slowly, deepening the wrinkles that lined his forehead as a scowl formed threateningly on his mouth. "What is he doing?"

Curiosity won out as she decided to look at Tyson too; he leaned against the picket fence casually and, she assumed by his own expression, was trying to be rather smooth as he flirted with an assortment of her cousins. "Oh you know," Hilary noted flatly, "Mingling."

Her Father threw her a pained look, taking her completely off guard. "I didn't raise you like this, did I?"

"Um… I don't know," Hilary retorted in confusion, "Raise me like what?"

"This is not okay," Mr. Tatibana snapped lowly, although not angry at his daughter. He pointed accusingly at the unassuming boy, his minor acceptance with the boy disappearing by the second. "He is not worth it. I'm going to-."

"Do nothing about it," she interrupted, putting a hand on his arm to prevent him from leaving. "I know it's not right. That's why I stepped on his foot."

"Stepped…?" he retorted skeptically.

"With my heel. Really hard. Like… really, _really_ hard. That's why he was jumping around like that when you came over," Hilary sighed; she couldn't believe she was saving Tyson from what he truly deserved.

"You couldn't have aimed a little higher?"

"Dad!"

"This better be the first time he has done this," he warned, ignoring her plight. Mr. Tatibana then pulled a face at his wording, "And last, of course. You better go over there and set him straight."

Hilary hesitated. "But Dad…."

"No daughter of mine is going to sit back and watch some hooligan step all over her. You're his _girlfriend_ for goodness' sake! He has some nerve to pull a stunt like this in front of me, let alone your family." By this time, her Father was seething, so much that his face was beginning to turn colour. Hilary personally thought it was a rather interesting shade of red, nonetheless she remained silenced. "It's either me or you."

"Guess I'll spare him some mercy…," the brunette sighed, reluctantly letting him go. Somehow her own anger had been absorbed out of her and she was left tired at the prospect of arguing with Tyson. "We wouldn't want a funeral today as well."

"Go."

"You're not going to tell anyone… are you?" Hilary inquired before turning to leave. Mr. Tatibana looked emotionlessly back at his daughter, her eyes wide and pleading. "Mom adores him; I don't want to hurt her."

"If he doesn't do it again…," the man agreed stiffly, sneering at the boy. It was rather amazing that very few people had taken notice to their heated conversation; those that had noted merely looked on with puzzled bemusement. "Go."

"I'm going," she rolled her eyes, making her way toward her date. He was still leaning against the fence talking to a group of four girls; he appeared to be trying to explain something as they watched with varied interest.

"For a guy like me…," Hilary overheard him boast, coming into hearing range, "It's not a huge deal. I could probably do that in my sleep if I wanted to."

"What's that?" she asked, her voice still holding onto the last few straws of annoyance she had. "Eating a ten course meal?"

Tyson glanced to her skeptically, almost as if he couldn't place why she was angry. "No," he frowned before shrugging, "It doesn't matter anymore. Have you met Darcy?"

"We're _related_."

"Oh right, I keep forgetting that," he grinned, jumping back to evade any attack from heels. This seemed to confuse her cousins even more, they speculated with raised eyebrows and creased frowns. "I see you're getting better at walking."

"I'm glad you noticed, not that it's any thanks to you," Hilary scowled. She pointed at the arranged chairs swiftly, realizing that people were beginning to be seated. "Can we go now?"

"But it's terrible to interrupt conver-."

"Come on!" Without a second thought, she reached for Tyson and seized his arm. Surprised, he blinked blankly, being pulled away from the group of girls before he could utter a goodbye.

"What was that for?" he demanded, struggling to break free from her grasp. Her fingers were firmly gripping his sleeve and he didn't have the guts to harshly break away; the last thing he wanted to do was tear the suit. "And can you stop dragging me around, I can walk myself."

"Unfortunately it's illegal to let dogs roam around, I can kinda understand why now."

"Excuse me?" Tyson barked, clenching his fists. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I can't help it if I'm a chick magnet."

Snorting, she whirled around clumsily to face him, having stopped walking in the process. "You're not a chick magnet, you're… chick repellent," Hilary chided, "Stinky, disgusting chick repellent."

"Yeah, and you're a bouquet of flowers," the boy waved her off, his eyes narrowed in anger. "I think you're just jealous."

"Of what, your amazing drive to help people out?" Hilary retorted, feigning interest. "They can have it for all I care."

Frowning further, Tyson asked, "What are you talking about?"

"You agreed to be _my_ date and at the first sign of another woman…," she began, speaking intensely. He coughed rigidly in the midst of her sentence, causing Hilary to correct herself, "Fine, girl. At the very first sign of another girl you jump ship. What happened to all that chivalry stuff?"

"Chivalry?" he repeated incredulously, "I can't believe you just associated that word with me."

"I'm using it loosely."

"Just because I'm here with you doesn't mean I can't look at other women." If it had been in any other circumstance, Hilary would've laughed, the kind of laugh that made people fall to their knees holding their sides as tears slipped down their cheeks before drenching their clothes. But because today happened to be this day, it barely amused her that her Father once again crept into one of their discussions at a very awkward time. "Do you get me, Hil?"

"In all honesty, I don't think I ever will," she murmured, sending a sheepish smile past him at her Father. Mr. Tatibana still seemed fired up, glaring at the form of the unsuspecting boy in front of him with pure hatred. "Oh hello, Dad."

Tyson turned on his heels at this, facing a very unimpressed man that was slightly taller than him. "Hey, Mr. Tatibana. How's it going, you looking for a seat?" Hilary nearly gawked, trying to determine if he was trying to keep cool in a heated situation or if he truly didn't sense the danger he was in.

She panicked about her Father's retort, expecting something over the top and dramatic. He had a tendency to do that, although she considered herself lucky to not have picked up such a horrible quality. "Hilary," he replied icily, ignoring her date altogether, "We're sitting on the right. You and your…." Mr. Tatibana hesitated at this, making her pulse pick up as her mouth started to open with an objection of some sort. "You and Tyson can sit there too."

"Oh," she acknowledged, allowing the relaxation to roll down her spine. Her Dad nodded solidly before walking away briskly, Tyson stared after the figure, unsure of what happened. "Thanks Dad."

"What did you say to him?" the navy haired boy asked, swiftly turning his attention back at her. "One second he loves me, the next he hates my guts. What's the deal?"

"Maybe he had a lapse in judgement," Hilary offered, although he didn't buy it for a second. "Or he got the wrong impression."

"Yeah, from you," Tyson accused. "What did you tell him about me? What kind of horrible lie did you muster up and spread?"

She feigned disinterest, finding that suddenly she felt guilty. Somehow he had gotten the right information from the wrong idea and now Hilary couldn't decide whether she would really be lying to him. "That's ridiculous. He got it from you talking to your little mingling group."

"Right. That makes complete sense."

"Listen… can we just sit down and shut up?"

"Well _I_ know _I_ can…."

"Apparently."

"I don't even understand why you're angry," he scowled, deserting her once again. She growled in frustration, taking off with a wobble right behind him down the aisle. "It's not like people are mad at you for no reason."

"No reason?" she repeated with venom, her voice hissing as it tried to remain low. The last thing she wanted to do was make a show before the wedding, completely overshadowing the occasion. "I told you my reason."

"That has nothing to do with you," Tyson retorted with a snort, his voice was a few decibels louder than hers. "Okay, it does. But not really. You're not caring from your view, but through what other people think."

"Which is so different from you," the brunette shot back. "You don't care how I feel at all just how my Dad does."

"That _is_ different. Apples and oranges. I still care about how I feel, and I feel your Dad's sudden mood swing is more of a burden than your harping. So shut it, will you?"

Stumbling over her words, Hilary snapped, "I'll shut you."

He ignored her, shrugging his shoulders. "I get why Max ran away now…. I don't know what you could've possibly told your Dad about him."

"I didn't tell him anything."

"And I didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh yeah right. Why can't you just admit you're wrong?" Without realizing it, Hilary had managed to shout the question rather loudly at the unimpressed boy. He looked back at her with wide eyes, gaping at the commotion she was causing. Slowly the world was catching up with her and the brunette soon realized everyone had stopped to watch her.

Tyson laughed nervously, turning a noteworthy shade of red. "Oh alright…," he added softly, stalking back to wrap an arm around her shoulders, "I'm wrong. You do love me more, so I should be the one to hang up first."

And with tight smiles, people picked up their own conversations deciding it was best to ignore them. Hilary also saw her Father standing in a row of chairs not far from them, jaw set with an embarrassed and furious mixed expression. It was enough to make her bow her head, letting Tyson lead the way.

"Why did you do that…?" she questioned cautiously, knowing they were clearly not on the best of terms. For the life of her, Hilary couldn't fathom why he would declare something like that to a group of strangers. He glanced down, his eyes showing he was trying to bury anger in an attempt to please her crowd.

"Your friends already think you're insane. All you have left is your family."


	8. Chapter 7: Daddy In The Middle

**A/N**: 7 months… er…. Whoops? Can you say hypocrite? Tiny bit of a hiatus for a while, I suppose. Here I am though with a brand new, albeit short, chapter. Something's better than nothing. Next chapter is the stuff I've been _living_ for, so I'm aiming for less than a month. If you care, I've been feeling a lot better than before. And I am disappointed with what I accomplished in the past year, hopefully 2009 will be a better writing year.

The following deserve many thanks: **steph300**, **ToraHimeSama**, **Sony89**, **sanaa**, **distantheart**, **nightpixie**, **Aiyanne**, **Unfunny** **Joke**, **MePo**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **Tinkerbell04**, **twilight guardian**, **Animegurl29** and **caroline**. I'll be a little surprised if you still review. XP

Also, weirdly, I noticed that because I used to just copy and paste names that if you changed them they won't appear now. I'm gonna have to go back and change that one day. If you're wondering who I'm thanking in the beginning in the story, it's **MePo**. Sorry for the inconvenience.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade. But I did find my old Bulbasaur Pencil Sharpener yesterday… man that thing was so awesome.

Chapter Seven: Daddy In The Middle

"I think my Dad wants us to sit with him," Hilary recalled, watched the man run his hands through his hair downward over his forehead for the tenth time since the incident. She peered to Tyson as he stopped dead in his tracks at the same row; he waved his hand to her passively for her to move. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I think your Dad wants to rip my head off, so, by all means… you go first," the navy haired boy retorted dryly.

"Oh no," she quickly disagreed, "You go first, he'll only growl at you. I'll get a complete lecture."

"You don't tease angry dogs. If I go sit beside him, one false move means jump for the jugular."

Hilary rolled her eyes with a scowl set. "You're an idiot. One, my Dad's not a dog; he's more reserved than you're giving credit. And, we're at a wedding, what more could you possibly do to make him snap like that?"

"I yawn, Hilary. I sit and tell myself not to and the next thing you know it's all I'm doing," he sighed, waving his hand once again for her to move. "Now, please take your seat."

"I'll take my seat when you take yours."

"We're supposed to be mature adults, Hilary," Tyson stressed, taking a deep breath. She had to agree with that, feeling rather silly. "One, two, three – not it!"

"Not it!" She shouted before narrowing her eyes. "No fair, you didn't even give a fair enough warning."

"Take it from a pro Hil, it's better to be on your toes than your heels."

"And it's better to pay attention in class than falling asleep, your point?" Hilary stepped closer daringly. "I demand a rematch."

"Hilary!" The brunette flinched as the voice hissed along the chairs, both teenagers now staring at the rather cold exterior of her Father. Glaring, he pointed at them and then to the chairs beside him with a single solid movement. Tyson put his hand on her back quickly, pushing her along to go first and making her grumble discreetly in the process.

"This was the dragon we were talking about," she whispered heatedly over her shoulder. "And you failed. Way to be the hero."

"If a knight slew a dragon by sitting down beside them every girl's dream would be on some couch with a bag of chips," Tyson smirked, slowly following her. "Preferably with some sort of dip."

"Can you stop daydreaming about food?" Hilary murmured, not even bothering to turn around to see his dumbstruck expression. She was too busy focusing on her Father as he was closer with every step. He had his hand over the bridge of his nose, pinching it like he usually did to ease his thoughts.

"Do you think he'll kill us?"

"Too many witnesses."

"_That's_ comforting."

She nudged him in the chest blindly before finally approaching her Father. Tyson made an odd sound at the contact, rubbing the wound with contempt. Collapsing into the metal chair a space away from her Father, he remained silent.

"Hey Dad," Hilary greeted gently.

Giving a thick smile, he had no chance to reply before Mrs. Tatibana bounded for them from the other side. "We're just about to start," she clapped her hands vividly, watching as the rest of the crowd started to gather for their seats. "Hilary, sit down. Sweetheart, please stop doing that, you're going to give yourself more wrinkles."

Mr. Tatibana grunted, fixing his suit stubbornly. Hilary smoothed out her dress, sitting on the cold metal slowly before scooting herself back. Tyson smiled at her reluctance, holding back his laughter as she sent him a glare.

"I don't know why you're laughing, you have pants," she snapped lowly, bringing her head closer to him so her Father didn't overhear. "Try wearing a dress."

Tyson snorted, catching the attention of her Father as he sent him a strange look. Covering up the noise with a string of coughs, Hilary was rather pleased with his lame attempt that ended with failure. With unease, he murmured back, "I don't look good in dresses."

"Thank you."

"Oh, no problem. At least you're not the only one now."

Her lips thinned as a cocky smile graced his own, but before she could do anything an all too familiar tune started to play and the crowd was on their feet. Not wanting to drop his insult as if it was nothing, she innocently jabbed the heel of her shoe into his foot once again. And without hesitation, Tyson reacted by accidentally kicking the chair swiftly in front of him into one of her Uncles. Wide eyed and wary, the navy haired boy became sheepish as the hulking man turned toward him in question.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, glancing to Hilary. "Leg spasm."

Scrutinizing him silently, he fixed his own chair before giving Hilary's Dad a strange look. Both teenagers glanced to her Father, his expression level and unimpressed as Mrs. Tatibana squeezed his arm in delight, completely unaware.

"Here she comes! Don't the ribbons just bring out her dress?" the woman squealed, making Tyson give her a dubious look that failed to catch her attention. The boy wheeled around to see the woman coming down the aisle and decided that the dress would look the same regardless of the frilly ribbons.

"What happened to the flower girl and Sammy? Aren't they supposed to go up first?" Tyson whispered to the brunette beside him curiously.

"They went up when you were kicking the chair into my Uncle," Hilary rolled her eyes.

Tyson's jaw dropped before his gaze became menacing. "Are you kidding me?" he hissed lowly, "The only reason I'm here is because of Sammy, and you beg me to come, but then, for some reason, you make me miss what I'm here for…. What's your damage?"

"Don't blame it on me if you have to make a big show about everything," she snapped back, "If you had any manners, maybe you could've done a better job."

"A better job? I think you're losing it, sister. Take the blame for once in your life – you messed up. The poor kid probably thinks I'm a colossal jerk."

"And he'd be right."

"Kids…."

"Oh, I'm always the jerk, aren't I? I don't have an ounce of decency in me, do I?"

"Kids."

"It must be pretty deep. I haven't found it yet."

"_Kids_." Tyson and Hilary both faced Mr. Tatibana once again; his neck red and his voice a near growl. Slowly, the pair realized they were the only ones in the crowd left standing and everyone was watching them oddly. Sheepishly, they sat down, giving the priest the opportunity to progress with the service.

"Ladies and gentlemen, together we are here to celebrate the union of Veronica and Gregory under holy matrimony…."

"You two better be on your best behaviour for the rest of the day, or I swear to God I'll…," Mr. Tatibana warned lowly, obviously close to his limit. "I'll… I'll figure something out, and neither of you will like it."

Tyson crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, finding the metal uncomfortable. Hilary sulked as well beside him, anger still written out on her face. She was evidently ignoring him, and that was perfectly fine, he could now focus on trying to see over puffy hair and shiny scalps to see little Sammy. This failed as he tried to crane his neck around people's heads.

"What are you doing?" Hilary finally murmured, having his head come bouncing too close to her side for the sixth time while he fidgeted.

He fired off his own question in dismay, "Does everyone in your family have such big heads?"

"Unlike yours, they hold our brains."

He glared at her again, starting to get sick of her jabs at his intelligence. "I'm here doing you a favour, you'd think you'd be a little more appreciative."

"I'd be a little more appreciative if you could act your age and behave."

"My age?" Tyson debated with a roll of his eyes. "Would you consider stepping on someone else's foot on purpose as a form of response appropriate for our age? 'Cause I think I'm proving my points pretty darn well."

"I have to sink down to your level so you understand," she told him passively, "Otherwise you still wouldn't know what you were doing wrong."

"Typical. Nobody's as smart as you, eh Hilary?"

"I'd hate to interrupt," Mr. Tatibana said with deadpan, leaning into their conversation over his daughter. "When I said best behaviour that actually meant not talking _during_ the wedding. Whatever issues you have, save them. I don't want to hear another peep out of you two. You're driving me insane."

Nodding, Tyson went back to staring at the scalps of Hilary's family members. The Uncle he had swiftly booted the chair into had a particular shiny head and he found himself squinting to see if he could check a slight of his reflection. The priest words were droning past him, comparing marriage to the likeness of a plant and how it needed nurturing. The navy haired boy decided then that children must be like weeds, and their livelihood is what made all these men bald.

Hilary craned her head to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion. She nudged him in the ribs to catch his attention, and it did. It successfully made Tyson jump with surprise before glowering at the girl. Mr. Tatibana gave them a brief growl as he passed them a glance. Mrs. Tatibana, however, dabbed her eyes at the ceremony, lost to the world beside her.

The brunette tilted her head, giving him a questioning look she believed to be obvious. Tyson was at a loss for her antics, scrutinizing her with utter confusion. He mouthed his question, "What?"

"Can you just sit there without causing trouble?" she mouthed back.

Tyson didn't understand, his expression crumbling further. "What?"

"Stop causing trouble."

"What…?"

"Grow up," Hilary hissed finally, sick of not being able to get her message across. Tyson let out a deep breath, clearly frustrated with her constant putdowns.

Mr. Tatibana slapped his hands on his legs, standing up abruptly and jerking his head for Hilary to move over. His face was dark and the lines in his forehead further creased at the fact he was telling his teenage daughter how to behave in public. Neither Hilary nor Tyson moved at his conquest, in fact they merely stared at his position.

"Excuse me…?"

Hilary's Father turned toward the voice, which happened to belong to the priest that had stopped his preaching. His face burned feeling the inquisitive eyes of the crowd on him, as well as the daggers being sent his way through his older sister. "I-I was…."

"You have a reason these two shouldn't be married?" the priest wondered.

"What?" Mr. Tatibana retorted, wanting to slap himself in the face for standing up at such a cliché time. This only happened in those family friendly television shows that he used to watch with his daughter when she was nine. Which, for all he believed, was five years ago.

"You have a reason they shouldn't get married."

"No… no, I mean," her Father ran a hand through his dark locks for about the hundredth time, letting out a nervous laugh. "_Sure_, it's only been about… nine months since her last marriage, but the last Kyle, well I didn't have a good feeling about him."

The groom became perplexed. "Last Kyle…? How many Kyle's have there been?"

"I don't know, three… four? It doesn't matter. You're the first Greg and you should get married."

The groom, Greg, stared perplexed at his wife. "You've been married to four Kyle's? You told me you only got married once!"

"Maybe there were five…."

"Shut-up and sit down!" the bride exclaimed, almost successfully making the groom follow suit as he flinched. Instead, Mr. Tatibana slowly took his new seat between the now silenced Tyson and Hilary. "I'm trying to get married."

"In record time," Tyson said lowly.

Hilary's Dad nodded, "Apparently."

The priest, stunned and dazed, wakened briefly from his stupor. "Does… anyone else have a reason these two shouldn't get married? Are there any Kyle's in the audience?" Chuckles escaped from the crowd to be captured by the bride's icy stare.

"God, she could match Kai at a stare down," the blue haired boy said with awe, forgetting Hilary was no longer beside him.

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Heh. Sorry, sir."

"Do you Gregory Reginald Abbott take Veronica Denise Tatibana to be your lawful wedded wife?" the priest continued, feeling the intensity of the bride.

"She didn't keep her last name?" Tyson leaned forward over Mr. Tatibana to talk to Hilary.

"Tatibana _is_ her last name."

"Why are you two still talking? I'm right here in front of you and all you're doing is yapping."

"Sweetheart, this is a wedding," Hilary's Mom sighed, frowning at her husband with disdain. "Can you please stop talking so I can hear?" The older man gaped at the request, making Tyson and Hilary smirk with amusement.

Greg made a serious grunt at the alter, having not yet answered the priest's question. "Five Kyle's?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, "Because I've married a few Kyle's you don't want to marry me? You're the one that proposed."

"You brought me ring shopping on our fifth date…."

"So you don't want to get married…?" the bride's eyes started to well with exaggerated tears making panic rise within Greg's veins.

"No! I mean, yes! I mean…. Yes, I still want to get married to you."

"Then you kinda have to say something…."

"Oh… right. I do. Sorry, it's the first time I'm doing this," as soon as the words left his mouth, Greg flinched yet again. The bride was not as amused as the audience.

"Er… do you Veronica…?"

Tyson bopped his head in front of Mr. Tatibana again, making the older man growl profusely, but much to the blue haired boy's ignorance. "Let's say we got married?" That ceased his imitation of a dog in a heartbeat, looking to his daughter immediately.

"_What_!?" the man hollered.

"I said, I do," the bride glared at her younger brother in the crowd. "Did I ruin your wedding?"

"I behaved at your first one too…."

Hilary ignored both her Aunt and Father, staring at Tyson with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Let's say we got married…."

"You're not marrying my daughter."

"Right…," Tyson said slowly, giving the older man a levelled look. After a few seconds, his eyes traveled back the baffled face of Hilary. "Would you take my name or keep yours? You'd want to be Mrs. Tyson Granger, right?"

Hilary snorted. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Are you still mad at me? That was like _hours_ ago. I can't believe you're still upset."

"I can," Mr. Tatibana scowled.

"Your Dad is very involved in your life," Tyson decided, receiving a glare courtesy of the man himself. Shrinking back somewhat, the blue haired boy insisted, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Right now I just feel like you should take my name."

Puzzled, he couldn't imagine himself doing something like that. "Tyson Tatibana?" he said incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows with concentration. "Wait… I think I get what you're trying to say."

Hilary was doubtful, not knowing what she had meant herself. Her words had actually just been a comeback that was slightly delayed. "And… what was that?"

"I'm being Veronica."

Hilary's expression crumbled. "What?" both her Father and herself voiced with complete confusion. Laughter was on the tip of her tongue because his face had become so serious.

"I was being Veronica earlier, looking for my next Kyle while you, Greg, were busy doing something else," Tyson sighed, becoming sheepish as he played with his cuffs. "I get it now. I was being a jerk."

In a round about way, he was speaking the truth and it made Hilary smile. "That's the first time you ever said that to me."

"Hopefully it will be the last…."

"You don't want to be a jerk anymore?"

"I'd rather not apologize for it."

Hilary rolled her eyes as her Father bobbed his head back and forth between the two of them. He couldn't quite fathom what had just happened, watching the anger virtually dissipate from their features.

"You may now kiss the bride…."


	9. Chapter 8: Hopscotch Hoopla

**A/N**: Obviously this is an error because it's 6 months early. XP Either that or you're psychic and know _exactly_ what I was going to write. Pretty short again, but really, going on and on about something doesn't really help the story. That's my theory. Hope you enjoy the story; this chapter is a bit on the strange side. The next one out should be around May, 'cause the only thing that's coming up is I have to get my toenail out… again. Blah.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed: **Dragon Reverb**, **ToraHimeSama**, **sanaa**, **Sony89**, **Black Wolf Jaganshi Lover**, **BlitzFanatic**, **nightpixie**, **MePo**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **Tinkerbell-04**, **DarkDremora4**, and **Anime gurl 29**. You guys didn't ditch the story.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade.

Chapter Eight: Hopscotch Hoopla

"What are we exactly doing?" Tyson asked, stretching his limbs as he followed some of Hilary's relatives out into the aisle. He noticed ahead that everyone was approaching the wedding party one at a time in a long line he appeared to be part of.

"Congratulating the happy couple," Mr. Tatibana answered dryly, ignoring the fact that the question had been for Hilary. "I'm going to be blamed for this divorce too…."

"Oh, Dad. It's not your fault," the brunette tried to ease his thoughts, patting his back encouragingly as she wobbled passed him to be beside Tyson.

"Of course not. It's yours."

Hilary gaped, "How is it my fault?"

Raising his hands in the air, he stressed, "At fifteen - !"

"Sixteen."

"At sixteen and talking while other people are talking, a priest no less, how do you think that makes me look?" her Father sighed, waving off his error.

Tyson interjected thoughtfully, "A little better than someone who interrupts their sister's wedding?" The man glared at the blue haired boy immediately, making Tyson smile sheepishly. "Or not."

"Wasn't the wedding just beautiful?" Mrs. Tatibana gushed, wrapping her arms around her husband's. "Just think, our little Hilary will be walking down the aisle some day soon."

"Soon?" Tyson grinned, swinging his arm around Hilary playfully; falling off balance, she levelled herself against him unwillingly. She glowered upward at his amusement. "You got somebody picked out already, Hil?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she pushed him back somewhat, his arm hanging loosely in nonchalance. Over a crease of his tux, Hilary could see the bitter expression on her Father's face and the dancing swoon in her Mother's eyes.

"What am I supposed to say? I don't know anyone," Tyson frowned, "Hey, hope you last more than a year? You're way better than those Kyles? She must be some catch if there are so many guys fumbling after her?"

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Yeah, definitely use those."

"What are you going to say?"

"Congratulations?"

"Wow… I can tell you've been to a lot of these," Tyson said sarcastically, unimpressed with her degree of experience. "I thought you'd have a whole speech prepared or something."

"Seeing as how they're two second meetings I don't think so. You just remind them who you are and say good luck."

Tyson cocked an eyebrow, his face falling, "Hi, my name's Tyson. Good luck with this train wreck?"

"Young man!" Both teenagers jumped to see an older woman, dressed up in bright purple with a feather falling over her face turn to face them. Her face was pinched together, her nose sticking up in the air so that her icy gaze slid down her face, passed her glasses balancing on the end of said nose to meet Tyson. "That is my niece you are talking about, and dare you put your arm around my darling great niece?"

"Uh…," Tyson stuttered, frazzled by the sing song tune lacing her sentences. "I dare?"

"Take your hand off her at once!" She swatted at him with a leopard skinned purse she refused to let go of. It managed to bop him on his head as he lifted his arm off of Hilary. Yelping, the scene caught the attention of Mr. Tatibana and a few others who didn't know the woman.

"Aunt Bertha, is there a problem?" the older man asked cautiously, stepping between the two teenagers.

"Of course you'd approve of this hooligan, both of you are conspiring to destroy Veronica's chance at happiness!" the older woman cawed crankily, she swatted at Hilary's Father as well, smacking him in the shoulder. "Conspiring!"

"Tyson and I are not conspiring against anything," Mr. Tatibana reasoned, "He's here because he's Hilary's… date."

"Date?" Aunt Bertha repeated, spitting the words out like a bad taste. She didn't allow Hilary to be relieved about her Father's words, instead deciding to go on a tirade. "These are the type of boys you surround yourself with? Boys who think women are evil and are to blame for everything!"

"I didn't say that!" Tyson attempted to defend himself, rubbing his forehead. He poked out from around Mr. Tatibana. "I think women are great!"

"Aha! I knew it," Aunt Bertha shouted, attempting to hit him again, but just skimming Mr. Tatibana's elbow. "You think women are your personal treasures, that Hilary is your arm candy."

"If Hilary was my arm candy, I'd bring her somewhere that didn't have half of her family as the public!"

"You're in a losing fight, Tyson," Mr. Tatibana interrupted. "It's best to shut-up and admit defeat."

"Ha!" the woman spat, "What a role model for men, how did my brother raise you? And this is the kind of boy you want for your daughter? Look at how long his hair is!"

Hilary poked Tyson in the ribs to stop him from speaking; glowering for a moment, he grudgingly obeyed. Mr. Tatibana sighed, "Aunt Bertha, let's not cause a scene… it will ruin Veronica's wedding."

"Too late for that…," the old woman huffed, spinning around on her heels elegantly to sway away from them as much as she could. Hilary's Dad bowed his head, his mind racing on an aching track.

"Thank God that's over," Tyson whispered carefully, eyeing the woman like a rapid dog ready to strike.

"Don't think so," Hilary smiled sympathetically, "She'll be sitting at our table."

"Table?"

"For the reception."

"Reception…?"

"Where we'll be eating…."

"Oh," Tyson grinned, "Of course, we'll be eating… I forgot. What's on the menu?"

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Hopefully proper table manners." Mockingly, the blue haired boy laughed, pulling her closer to him again.

"Verrrrrrrronica!" Aunt Bertha sang, the sound sombre and exhilarating to everyone in the room. She opened her arms widely, crushing the woman in the white dress swiftly with slobbery kisses. To Tyson surprise, the bride didn't seem repulsed in the least, rather she returned the gesture generously.

"Auuunt Bertha!" Veronica exclaimed, teary eyed at the sight of the dear woman. "I'm so glad you could make it…. Not that it was perfect."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, you are my favourite niece after all," Aunt Bertha wiped the woman's tears, sending a snide look over her shoulder. "Believe me, I know brothers can be a nuisance."

Mr. Tatibana scowled at the unwanted attention, looking downward to get away from their glares. "Man, I sympathize with you," Tyson frowned, patting the man encouragingly on his back like Hilary had earlier. "Surrounded by all these woman… how do you survive?"

Her Father's eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "What do you mean?"

"Hilary's the only woman, I guess, that I have in my life. I gotta tell you, now that I've met some of the woman you have to deal with…," Tyson whispered cautiously, eyeing the angry harpies in purple and white, "I'm going to appreciate Hilary a lot more."

Mr. Tatibana's eyes lightened, smiling grimly at the teenager's words. "Oh. At least my relatives will help give Hilary a better life."

"Yeah," Tyson nodded oddly, "Sucks to be you though."

"A little bit."

"Kyyyyyyyle!" Aunt Bertha exclaimed again, swarming the groom with a sudden dash. Seeming utterly confused, the man, wrongly named, became crushed in a wave of purple; her puffy flower getting stuffed in his nose.

"Greg, actually…."

Mr. Tatibana pointed to the older woman accusingly, approaching his older sister as he brushed pass his daughter and her date. "She just called him Kyle! _I_ knew his name," he stressed, "It's Greg."

"Of course it's Greg, he just said it."

"I'm trying to be a parent," the man sighed, "That's why I stood up… I don't care who you marry or how many times."

"There you go again!" Veronica flicked him in the nose, "Thinking you're better than me because you've only had one wife, and you have a daughter who gets straight A's… and you have a house…."

"I don't think I'm better than you…."

"It's fine! My new husband can beat you up any day." Greg looked over at the commotion with uncertainty, smiling warily at his new brother-in-law while Aunt Bertha pounded on his back.

Mr. Tatibana rolled his eyes, "Guess we'll go arrange that date then… come on Aunt Bertha, move it or lose it."

"Hi, Aunt Veronica!" Hilary smiled cheerfully, getting enveloped in a hug while Tyson stood off awkwardly. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sweetie. I bet you helped out with this whole thing, you've always been so organized," the woman cooed. "Look at you! All grown up, must be driving the boys wild!"

Hilary laughed nervously, awaiting Tyson's cocky snort of disproval. Amazingly, it never arrived as he listened intently to their conversation. "I wouldn't say that…."

"I would…," Veronica suddenly smiled thinly, "I saw you earlier… preventing my wedding from starting… making my brother talk to you two constantly. Tell me, is there something wrong with Greg?"

The brunette blanched, "This is my first time meeting him. And I'm sorry I was talking during the wedding…."

"Fine," Veronica sighed.

"Uh… congrats?" Hilary repeated, giving her Aunt another brief hug before moving on in the line. Tyson stepped up, leaving the older woman confused.

"Aunt Veronica!" Tyson echoed with a grin, holding his arms out wide for his greeting. Not moving, the woman in the white dress placed her hands on her hips and glowered. "Didn't you miss me?"

Hilary sent him a strange look, shaking Greg's hand in an introduction. "I don't know you," Veronica informed him, face pinched together much like Aunt Bertha, "Other than the boy who can't keep his mouth shut."

"Listen, about that, it really was all my fault. I've never been to a wedding before," Tyson scratched the back of his neck, "Hilary was just explaining what was happening."

"Uh huh," the woman replied dryly, "I've dated a lot of guys, I know what you're doing. Pretending you were doing something else so you won't get in trouble."

"Get in trouble?" Tyson repeated, "Are you going to send me to the corner?"

"I'm going to send you somewhere."

Tyson smiled cheekily, waving to the bride before moving onto the groom. "Sending me down the line? Congrats." Veronica huffed lowly.

"Er… you're not a relative I haven't memorized, right?" Greg questioned wearily, "I don't remember you being on the cue cards…."

"Cue cards?" the blue haired boy gawked, "Does she know everyone in your family?"

"Not a lot of my family came," Greg revealed nervously, leaning forward to whisper to him, "A lot of them think she's too controlling…."

"Greg! Don't hug him."

He nodded, "Alright."

Tyson shook his head, "How did they jump to that conclusion?"

"Did you know about the Kyles?"

"Uh… no." Greg nodded again, crestfallen by the apparent news of his wife having had several exes. "I'm sure you'll be married for a long time… maybe not by your standards though."

"Thanks…."

Hilary was glaring at him not far off from his journey around the semi-circle, her hands poised critically on her waist. "Hey, you look just like your Aunt Veronica," Tyson grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulder for guidance.

"Well my Aunt pretty much hates you and you just disturbed the groom," the brunette sighed, bringing him to a decent gathering of tables. "Things are going well."

"I'd say," Tyson laughed, "When do I get to meet Sammy?"

"Uh…," Hilary paused to look around the yard, not catching sight of the sweet, wrongly named, little boy. "After dinner."

"Heeeeeee is not sitting with us," Aunt Bertha exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Hilary's apparent beau dramatically. Feinting surprise, neither teenager slowed their stride. "Youuuuuu will eat with the dogs."

"Noooooo," Tyson sang, "I won't." Mr. Tatibana snickered, already seated at the round table, much to his daughter's surprise. Aunt Bertha didn't become angered, but perplexed, by the presence of his mock.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Talking like what?"

Aunt Bertha grunted before continuing, "Heeeee can't sit here…!"

"He's going to," Mr. Tatibana smiled wanly, taking the territory with caution. "Tyson doesn't have to sit beside you."

"Aww," Tyson murmured.

"Bertha! Are you making a fuss again?" a hearty, older fellow bounded for their small crowd. He leaned leisurely on his cane, stumbling out of line like Hilary had earlier. He bounced and wobbled with a joyful smile gracing his lips and casted a peculiar spell over Mr. Tatibana.

"Thomas, did you see what _your_ son did during the wedding?" Aunt Bertha glowered, sitting back in her chair.

"Are you kidding me?" Thomas cackled, wobbling up to Hilary's Father and smacking him on the back a few times. "It was the only thing that was keeping me awake! You should do that the next time too."

"That's where his attitude is coming from!" Aunt Bertha growled, she then pointed to Tyson again, "And it's spreading."

Thomas wheeled around to stare at the blue haired boy curiously. "Who's this…? Did someone adopt another grand kid who'll want in on my will? Someone should really ask me about my opinion on things."

"Grandpa," Hilary interjected and Tyson immediately sensed a difference in that word; she had used it in a much warmer fashion toward his own grandfather on numerous occasions. "This is Tyson… my date."

"Date," Thomas repeated, suddenly examining the boy beside his granddaughter. The study made Tyson weary, having known Hilary's Great Aunt for a bit longer; he could imagine that cane smoking him right in the head. "A little on the scrappy side, isn't he?"

Tyson's expression crumbled. "Scrappy? I work out every day."

Thomas chuckled, taking a seat between his sister and son. "For how long? Two minutes? You don't look like you play checkers let alone a sport." Hilary flinched at the comment, she knew the comment would damage Tyson's pride and that was never a good thing.

"I'll have you know," Tyson growled, putting his hands on the table with a smack as he leaned forward, "I am the third time reigning world beyblading champion. I'm the only person who has ever done that."

"Oh," Thomas awed apologetically, "I have no clue what that is."

Aunt Bertha nodded solidly, "Probably something illegal."

"Sounds familiar…," Mr. Tatibana agreed.

"I can't believe you," Tyson gaped, he held out an arm at Hilary for their attention to switch. She smiled sheepishly at her date's alarm. "Hilary is my coach! She makes all my training schedules."

"Well there's your problem," Thomas shook his head. The boy became confused, pulling two chairs out at the table blindly; one was for himself, the other for the brunette. "You're letting a girl train you for a sport nobody watches."

"Do you live under a rock?" Tyson retorted, completely ignoring his jibe against women, making Hilary roll her eyes. "Beyblading is a world renowned sport. Millions of people dream to be like me and my team mates! The ratings are off the roof! People have bobble heads of me!"

"It's true," Hilary stated, "Seats are impossible to get."

"What do you do in this sport?" Mr. Tatibana asked.

"I can't believe I sill have to explain to this to people…," Tyson frowned, "The object of the game is to knock the other person's beyblade out of the stadium or make it stop spinning."

"And a beyblade is…?" Thomas inquired.

Reaching into his tux's pant pockets, he pulled out his signature 'blade Dragoon. "You brought your beyblade to a wedding?" Hilary questioned skeptically, "Why in the world would you do that?"

"I figured Sammy might want to see it," Tyson replied, smiling lopsidedly at the girl. "Besides, I never leave it behind; what if it got into the wrong hands?" At that very moment, Thomas grabbed the item right out of the boy's grasp to examine it. "Hey!"

"This is it?" Thomas laughed, "You work out every day to play with this little top? No wonder a girl is your coach!"

"Hey, I was a champion for an entire year before Hilary even got the _name_ of the game right," Tyson reached for Dragoon to no avail, bending over the circular table. "And it's not just a top, if you have to call it that, it takes a lot of knowledge and strength…."

"To spin a top?"

"I can spin my 'blade through the roof!"

Thomas was skeptical. "How is that…? You don't even have all the pieces of this thing… you can't spin it without all the pieces."

"What?" Tyson yelped, finally taking hold of Dragoon in the captivity of his own hands. After examining it, he turned to Hilary with alarm, "Do you see anything missing?" Hilary shook her head.

"What are you talking about? You can't spin a top without holding and twisting thing at the… top. I know I'm speaking very technical terms, but for God's sake, you're the champion," Thomas lectured.

The navy haired boy's face fell before pocketing the unharmed beyblade. "It's not a top; it doesn't use that to spin. You use a rip cord that releases the beyblade into the stadium with critical speed. It's no game for amateurs." Hilary rolled her eyes at his last detail.

Thomas snorted at his seriousness. "In my day, we had to spin our own tops. Even then it wasn't a high contact sport."

Tyson went slack jawed, his expression blank as he spared a glance to Hilary. "Grandpa," she came to his defence lightly, "It can be pretty dangerous."

Thomas started to laugh again and Mr. Tatibana also became perplexed and skeptical at her agreement. "Whatever you say darling," her grandfather sighed, "Maybe you should give him a few more push ups though, we wouldn't want him to lose due to lack of muscle."

Tyson glared, crossing his arms, he slouched in the chair beside his date, seemingly defeated. Sympathetically, Hilary rested her hand on his arm reassuringly and squeezed it. "Don't be mad," she murmured.

"Maybe you could introduce us to the world champion of extreme hopscotch and professional hide and go seekers? If you could get them through their intense work out schedules, that is! Hilary probably coaches them too!"

"How could I be mad?" Tyson whispered back, his eyebrows furrowed in plain annoyance. "Now I know why you hated me so much, you were born into a family of beyblade haters."

"I didn't hate you."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes, "That's why you spited me."

"You're a great beyblader," Hilary smiled, causing the boy to sigh. "They'll never be able to understand that or how hard you work. As a representative of my family, I will scream _even_ louder next time you're in a championship."

"You can scream louder?" Tyson grinned, "You're already breaking glass… what's next? Ear drums?"

"I'm not kidding, Tyson. Sometimes I hate when you are so big headed about all the attention you get, but the truth of the matter is…," Hilary paused, glancing to her relatives as the buzzed about how utterly silly her _boyfriend_ was for taking such a stupid game seriously. "You deserve it. You're the one of the most dedicated people I have ever met… surprisingly."

"Thanks… but honestly tell me this…," Tyson flexed his arm discreetly, "You _can_ tell I work out regularly, right? I mean, check out this bicep."

"Er…," Hilary looked away from him in embarrassment, "I'm not even going to answer that."

The navy haired boy laughed, breaking up the conversation of the others surrounding the table. He snaked his arm around the brunette playfully, pulling her close. "I was just kidding. I really appreciate the support, coach."

"That's not getting you out of laps…."

"Can't blame a boy for trying."


	10. Chapter 9: Impression Roulette

**Author Note**: I know it's been over a year since my last update and I owe every single one of you an explanation. Your understanding means the world to me. Thank you for everything. I want this chapter to show everyone I will never give up on something I start.

Since the last update, I've lost two very important people in my life and it's left a gaping hole in my heart. In September 2009, I lost my cousin Kenneth, whose wedding I used as research for this very story, in a fatal car accident. This impacted my willingness to write for the story. Most recently I lost my Mother to brain cancer in June 2010; we only knew she was sick for a month (diagnosed on Mother's Day). It's the overwhelming grief I have been feeling that has inspired me to write again as a coping method. My Mom was the world to me, she played the role of both parents since I was young and was truly my best friend.

I would like to thank the following people for continuing to review even through my on and off absence: **Kamakaze Kheri**, **Sony89**, **Hunny Spectrum**, **Dragon Reverb**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **ToraHimeSama**, **ayushi**, **sanaa**, **darkheart1992**, **MePo**, **DarkDremora4**, **Tinkerbell-04**, **Shiningheart of ThunderClan**, **Kenrai**, **caroline**, **xjoinxthexclubx**, **DayDreaming0f y0u**, **Kashel**, **Rachel**, **Anime gurl 29**, **Aiyanne**, **Kariya-Yoshida**, **InuNarufan01**, and **Maou.1412**. You have no idea how much it means to me.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Nine: Impression Roulette

The sound of people clinking glasses grabbed Tyson's attention; he raised an eyebrow in question as he quirked his head toward Hilary. Making a face, she shrugged as she too looked around in confusion.

"What's going on?" the brunette asked her Father. The man had just reached for his glass and began to strike it with a spoon in rhythm with everyone else.

"It's tradition," Aunt Bertha interjected as she clanged her glass loudly. "When people stop and do this, the groom and bride have to kiss."

Said bride and groom, who were now seated at the head table, kissed for the crowd as cheers overlapped the sound of glass. Veronica clearly loved the attention; unlike her new husband that seemed to be stuck in a state of confusion since the service.

"Why?" Tyson asked, finding that the whole thing didn't really make any sense.

"Because it's tradition," Aunt Bertha repeated in annoyance, the drawl of her voice expressed that this boy wasn't worth her time. "That means it is common practice to do something."

"I know what tradition means," Tyson sighed, biting back his impatience. "I just don't think it makes sense that by doing this...," Tyson began to hit his empty glass with a spoon, provoking others to do the same, "That they have to kiss."

Hilary watched as the bride and groom once again kissed at the head table. "Because it's tradition," Aunt Bertha repeated yet again, anger straining her voice. This only made her Grandpa, Thomas, laugh at the sight of his sister's face turning red.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make any sense," Tyson frowned. When he moved to hit the glass again, Hilary swiftly grabbed a hold of the spoon, successfully stopping her date from initiating another kiss.

"Drop the spoon," she hissed, "And don't make me confiscate the rest of your cutlery."

Tyson immediately let go of the utensil, allowing Hilary to put it down on the table. "So what... you're planning on feeding me?" he whispered back, a smirk on his face, "Airplane or train noises?"

"Neither. I'd rather not lose my hands," Hilary gave him a pointed look, "Just no more banging glasses or provoking Aunt Bertha. Do you really want to be hit with that purse again?"

She watched as he openly cringed at the thought. "I guess not. I probably don't want to annoy your Aunt Veronica either, she looks like she might have a mean left hook."

Hilary smiled, "What do you think happened to all those Kyles?"

It was at that moment Mrs. Tatibana bound for their table, taking up the final seat situated next to her husband. She looked around dreamily, "Aren't things just going so well?"

Mr. Tatibana made a face in disbelief. "Yeah... of course. Smoothest wedding I've ever been to." Surprisingly, neither Thomas nor Aunt Bertha interjected, obliging to stare at the woman with the same blank expression.

"What do you think, Tyson?" Mrs. Tatibana smiled as she turned her body toward the unsuspecting boy. "Things are going so well, don't you think?"

The blue haired boy nodded swiftly, playing along with the rest of his seat mates. He figured that as long as he didn't get in trouble for his previous actions, he would agree with pretty much anything. "It's going great. All your hard work is really paying off... Definitely going to be a wedding to remember."

Hilary rolled her eyes as her Mother giggled girlishly to Tyson's response; not that he minded at all, with a smile, he subtly winked to her in smugness. The brunette resisted the urge to wipe the smile off his face, clasping her hands together on her lap.

"So scrawny," Thomas started, leaning back in his chair with a glint in his eyes. "This wedding must really have you thinking..."

Hilary froze at the tone of her Grandpa's voice, knowing the direction he was heading and the wicked tongue he had for irking people. She tried her best to eye her _boyfriend_ casually; from the look on his face, eyebrows crunched in concentration, she gathered he had no idea what the old man was talking about. Unfortunately, the other set of eyes at the table did as they watched with interest.

"Uh... what do you mean?" Tyson finally asked.

"Not exactly on the honour roll either, are you scrawny?" Thomas laughed in amusement. It was easy to see for Hilary that the jarring comments between her Grandpa and Aunt Bertha were getting under his skin. "Any ideas about marriage?"

"Marriage?" Tyson repeated. His annoyed expression soon evaporated into one of disarray. "No... not really. I don't even plan on getting married." When the words left his mouth, Tyson watched as all of Hilary's relatives at the table froze; except for Mr. Tatibana, his mouth opened and closed in silence. Coughing awkwardly, he continued, "I mean, not yet..."

Everyone at the table slowly came back to life, even Mr. Tatibana, who was still at a loss for words. Hilary cleared her throat uncomfortably, hoping the conversation would end there.

Thomas, on the other hand, didn't seem to want that. "It's never too early to think about your future," he lectured, pointing a finger at him, "Besides, Jacks might be all the rage in the future. Maybe you can be the champion of that too."

"Oh, you're interested in Jacks, Tyson?" Mrs. Tatibana inquired, surprised and somewhat confused at the change in conversation. Thomas couldn't help but laugh at Tyson's crestfallen face.

"Uh...," the boy tried to answer, placing his arms on the table.

But in a matter of moments, a purple sleeved arm reached over and a hand connected roughly with his forearms. "No elbows on the table!" Aunt Bertha shouted in her sing song drawl, "Were you raised in a barn?" Tyson quickly took his arms off the table, staring at the brazen woman in bewilderment. Not wanting to be hit again, he bit his lower lip in an attempt not to mention that if he was raised in a barn it would have no effect on how he acted at tables because of the lack of tables in barns; at least, ones that he knew of.

"When you meet a girl," Thomas continued in delight, "You should always think about marriage down the line."

"I'm not even in a serious relationship."

Once again, the words that left his mouth managed to freeze all of Hilary's relatives. He could see Mrs. Tatibana look at him with sad eyes, Aunt Bertha turning up her pinched nose, Mr. Tatibana's fish impersonation develop into a frustrated scowl, and Thomas had a new found grip on his cane. He figured Hilary also saw this and she came to his rescue by clanging a spoon against a glass once again as the room erupted into another kissing initiation. Confused by the girl's actions, the other four at the table joined in on the tradition.

Tyson let out a sigh of relief before clearing his throat roughly yet again. "Well... uh... I need to go to the washroom..."

Aunt Bertha sneered, "Just ask if you can be excused. We do not need to know the details."

"I'll show you where it is," Hilary offered, playing referee as per usual. Both teenagers stood from the table, Tyson beckoning his arm toward the girl that managed to save him from whatever her relatives' problems were. Hilary accepted his arm gratefully, predicting her heels were going to continue to be a problem. "We'll be back."

Mr. Tatibana was the only one to respond in the slightest, grumbling as he sent Tyson a dark glare. Everyone else seated gave tight smiles and avoided long standing eye contact; especially Mrs. Tatibana, who feared she may cry at the sight of them.

Tyson lead Hilary away from the table in an awkward silence, heading for her house. They picked up speed slightly after Hilary walked onto the pavement, knowing the grass could no longer grab a hold of her heels and send her hurtling.

"So... why didn't you tell me?" the blue haired boy finally asked, making their way for the back door. The house was basked in darkness as the evening set in the sky; soon the only light in the backyard would be the lanterns Mrs. Tatibana dutifully set up for ambiance.

"Tell you what...?" Hilary countered, hoping he hadn't been let on about her lying to him this whole time. She knew her family was acting suspicious, but in reality he would still have to assume a whole lot to pin point the ordeal.

He gave the brunette a funny look, letting his hand fall on the doorknob. "That your family was so pro marriage," Tyson rolled his eyes, "And abusive, your Grandpa was totally going to hit me with that cane."

"That's why I jumped in," Hilary stated as Tyson opened the door. She made her way into the house first, blindly searching the wall for the light switch. "He once threw his prosthetic leg at my Dad, I knew what was coming."

"Uh...," Tyson didn't know exactly what to say to that. Closing the door behind him, Hilary had finally found the switches to light up the room and hallway toward the staircase. "Think we could switch tables?"

"Probably wouldn't go so well," she decided, gesturing for Tyson to follow her.

"You know," Tyson said sheepishly, sticking his hands in his pockets, he trailed after the girl, "I really do have to go to the washroom."

"I figured, otherwise you would've said something else. It's upstairs," she told him, "I'll show you where it is."

"Oh great," he laughed, "This won't take long at all."

Hilary paused at the staircase, hitting some more light switches for the rooms upstairs to be washed in light. "We won't stop for a pep talk this time," she shot him a look in warning, "And no tricks this time either."

Tyson removed his hands from his pockets, holding them up in defence. "Hey, you were just as much at fault for everything as I was."

"You started it."

"Oh real mature, Hil." Offering her his arm once again, the brunette felt reassured there would be no issues. On one side of her there might have been questionable Tyson, but on the other side was the good, old, reliable banister. She could always cling to it for safety if Tyson decided to pull anything.

She quickly deduced that he had no plans up his sleeve as they bound slowly up the stairs. He must've really had to go to the washroom if he wasn't going to even pretend to lose his balance.

"When we go back out there, your whole family is going to think I'm slime," Tyson let out a deep sigh. He gave the brunette a quick glance to see that she seemed surprised. "I'm at a wedding saying I don't believe in weddings."

Hilary stopped advancing on the staircase, jerking Tyson back a step. "You don't believe in weddings?" She was genuinely surprised, figuring the boy would be married one day. To someone else, of course... and not in a wedding dress.

"Not ones where you marry five Kyles and then a Greg," Tyson revealed, shooting another glance down the staircase in case of a peeved, purple woman wielding a lethal purse.

"I think there was a Peter in there too."

"That's my point," Tyson quipped, looking at the girl with conviction. "Thinking about getting married to every girl you meet? That's crazy!"

"So... you don't believe in getting re-married?" Hilary guessed, tilting her head to the side.

"I don't believe in your family," Tyson countered, "Getting married at least seven times is a little insane. That's not love, that's... that's... I don't even know what to call that."

"I thought we agreed on no pep talks?" Hilary raised an eyebrow in hopes it would also beckon the teenage boy's memory. Carefully readjusting her feet on the single stair, she turned her body to face Tyson more.

"Wait... you agree with your family?" Tyson ignored her comment all together, taken back by the prospect he came across. "You're telling me that every guy you've ever met... you think about marrying them?"

"What? That's not what I meant."

"So you've thought about marrying me?" Tyson continued, his face contorting with the possible new information about his friend.

Hilary's face flushed red, "No... I've never... Shut-up, I wasn't even saying I agreed with them."

"Good," the blue haired boy nodded in a single, fluid movement. He smiled softly, shuffling his feet on the stair. "I wouldn't want to think of you getting married to all of these guys. I'd rather you find the right guy and be happy."

Squeezing his arm in gratitude, Hilary returned his smile shyly. "You're forgetting, these are the relatives I don't see often," she explained, "My Mom's side is sane. They get married less often and don't hurt people when given the opportunity."

"What a relief," Tyson jeered, "I wonder what side you take after more?"

Hilary desperately wanted to hit him in the side with her elbow, letting him tumble down the stairs. She suspected that if that happened, he would be sure to bring her with him. "Ha," she humoured him.

"Wait...," Tyson paused, "If your Aunt Veronica's been married so many times, why haven't you been to a wedding in so long?"

"Honestly, my Dad said something about going to one wedding per name for her new husbands," Hilary let out a sigh, not exactly opposing her Father's views on the ongoing events of her Aunt. "There were a lot of Uncle Kyles for a while..."

"Not even when your Dad likes them?"

"He never really gets the chance _to_ like them. Since our holidays are so spaced out, it's practically a new guy at every one." Seeing Tyson's confusion, she decided to delve deeper into the goings-on of Aunt Veronica. "You think she gets married a lot? You should see how many guys she's dated. She may not marry them all, but she gets engaged to most of them."

Tyson whistled. "Must wear off the magic."

"Not for Aunt Bertha."

"Well, no. That's because they're too alike." A smirk suddenly played onto Tyson's lips, making Hilary suspicious. "One day your Aunt Veronica is going to wake up wearing all purple with a giant feather on her head and she's going to wish she held onto one of her husbands."

"Tyson!" Hilary scolded, removing her grasp from his arm carefully to hit him.

"It's going to happen and you know it," Tyson shrugged aimlessly, paying no attention to the minor damage. It was important to note Hilary also had a mean left hook and if anyone knew, it was Tyson. "Only benefit is you can hear that annoying sing-song thing they do from miles away. It's like a battle cry."

"I think you're enjoying this too much."

"Hey, I'm just kidding," he reassured her, holding out his arm for her to take again. Tyson gave her an apologetic look, "When you have a Grandpa like mine, you have to have a sense of humour. I don't get why people _don't_ make fun of him, as embarrassing as he is."

"I think he's endearing," Hilary smiled as she accepted his arm. "Besides, he is pretty hip. He never makes fun of guests."

"Hip? Sheesh Hilary, maybe you shouldn't hang around my Grandpa anymore," Tyson chuckled as he helped Hilary begin climbing up the stairs again. She merely sighed in an attempt to ignore him. "We don't need anyone else to start wearing Hawaiian shirts and ruining them for me again."

"Oh gee, thanks," Hilary lightly pushed him in the side; enough for him to feel it, but not enough for them to lose balance. "Continuously complimenting girls like that... How do you keep them at bay?"

"That's easy," Tyson muttered, "Bring Kai along."

Hilary didn't say anything as a retort, not wanting to bruise the boy's ego by accident. Instead she let out a sigh of relief when they conquered the last step and she no longer had to rely on Tyson to protect her from gravity; at least, not as much.

"The washroom's down the hall," she gestured loosely with a nod of her head. "And it's a bit of a pain to use since my Dad remodelled it."

"Why didn't you say that a while ago?" Tyson gave her a funny look as they descended the hallway. "I could have just gone outside."

Hilary halted in her tracks, pulling on Tyson's arm enough so that he faced her. Curling her nose in disgust, she attempted to give him the most horrified look possible. "Ew! You don't do that, especially not at weddings."

"I'm a guy."

"Not at weddings!"

"I'm pretty sure I'm still a guy," Tyson rolled his eyes, making Hilary grunt in annoyance. "Besides your Aunt Veronica's had so many weddings, she's bound to have some bad ones. And it's not like I would do it in a lightly lit area."

"We're not having this conversation," Hilary said bluntly, gripping his arm and dragging him down the hallway. "This is the first wedding my Mom's planned, do you really want to give her a heart attack?"

"Is it still usable?" Tyson sighed. Approaching the door, he tried to see into the dimly lit room. The room did look completely functional and well put together, much to Tyson's confusion. He reached into the room catching sight of the light switches before flicking them upwards. When the room remained in darkness, Tyson let out a breath of air. "The lights don't work?"

"You have to use a drawstring," Hilary explained, letting go of Tyson's arm. She waddled carefully into the center of the room, head tilted upward as she searched for the impromptu device.

Tyson followed her in, kicking aside the door stopper on his way to help Hilary in the middle of the room. "Your Dad's quite the handyman."

"Yeah. He didn't screw too many things up. Just make sure the door doesn't...," Hilary's words trailed off when the room was enclosed in pure darkness as the sound of a bang reverberated in their ears, "... shut."

"What's the big deal?" Tyson asked relieved when the room suddenly lit up, even if his eyes weren't when they readjusted. He took the few steps toward the door and twisted the doorknob to no avail.

"It wouldn't be a big deal...," Hilary bit her lip, "If my Dad hadn't installed the doorknob backwards."

"You're saying we're locked in here?" Tyson faced her, eyebrows raised in question.

"Until someone else has to go to the washroom," Hilary nodded. She turned toward the sole small window in the room, hearing the muffled voices of people talking on microphones and grouped laughter. "Sounds like they've started to do some toasts..."

"You know, this is all your fault," Tyson stated, hitting the wall to voice his frustration. Hilary looked over her shoulder, sending him a menacing glare. Avoiding eye contact, he slumped against the wall. "You couldn't just let me go outside..."

"That's still disgusting, Tyson."

"Yeah, well, remind me not to hire your Dad for handy work."


	11. Chapter 10: Toilet Humour

**Author's Note**: I think it is safe to say that I've gotten inspiration for this story back, and I really hope to keep up this pattern with updates. Honestly, the last two chapters were written in full in mere days – something I haven't experienced in years. I should also say, by the end of this chapter, I think a lot of you will know what the next chapter will be called. Even if you think you don't, you probably do. Trust me.

I would like to thank the following people for taking the time to review: **Sony89**, **darkmist11**, **ToraHimeSama**, **Kamakaze Kheri**, **ayushi**, **DayDreaming0f y0u**, **Kariya-Yoshida**, **Kenrai**, **sanaa**, **xjoinxthexclubx**, **darkheart1992**, and **TeenageDream92**. Seriously, it means a lot that people have continued with this story.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Ten: Toilet Humour

Hilary had her arms crossed as she leaned against the bathroom counter, she felt like a regular Kai. She would've told the joke to Tyson, but he seemed to be growing more and more irritable by the second. So instead she smiled to herself, waiting patiently for the party to move pass the toasts and allow people to use the washroom.

It was in her experience that once people on her Father's side of the family started talking it lasted a while. But Hilary didn't worry too much about that, people naturally had to go to the washroom and she figured, sooner or later, someone would open the door.

Tyson made a growling noise, annoyed with their current situation; he stood freely from the wall he had been slumped against. "Do you think you could go over there for a minute?" he jerked his thumb toward the corner of the room.

This being the first thing Tyson had said in a few minutes, Hilary stared at him quizzically. "Why?" she didn't make a move, instead opting to tilt her head in wonderment.

Tyson let out another low growl, walking toward the girl. "Because I have to go to the washroom," he said in disbelief, "And I think we would both feel better if you were standing in the corner."

"Oh no," Hilary jumped in front of him, blocking the toilet with her arms out at her sides. "You are, under no condition, going to the washroom _while_ I'm still in the room."

"What? I have to go, Hilary," Tyson scowled, trying to get around the girl. "I don't have any other options."

"Hold it!" she told him. She slammed the seat down on the toilet before sitting; then she proceeded to cross both her legs and arms as a sign of protest. "You're not five."

A strangled sound came from Tyson's throat in frustration as he threw his arms up in the air. "I should just go in your shower," he stated, watching Hilary's face contort in further disgust. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub facing the brunette, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. "You better hope someone comes here soon."

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Or what?"

"Or you'll be buying me this tux, if you catch my drift," Tyson countered.

"It's hard to say," Hilary changed the subject, hoping it would aid Tyson in keeping his mind off his current problem. "They're going to be talking about how they met and how they wish them the best in the future. Those sort of things."

"So what are the toasts like at the imaginary wedding you have for us?"

Hilary blushed, "I told you, I don't think about getting married to every guy I meet!"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off cheekily, enjoying her face turning redder in anger. "Let's see... Tyson and Hilary met in eighth grade; it was love at first sight. She was a huge fan of his and had watched all his matches on TV, thinking he was the hottest thing on the planet."

"Right, that's how things went," Hilary snorted.

"Hey, I'm not finished," Tyson laughed, humming in thought before continuing. "And when he met her, he couldn't help but think – wow, that girl has a way with constructive criticism and speaking her mind. What kind of guy wouldn't want that in a girl?"

"Are you finished?"

"In case you didn't know, I was calling you bossy and I'm not finished. What about you and Kai's wedding?" he snapped his fingers at the idea. "Since this is imaginary land, you can get married to as many guys as you want."

"Oh great," Hilary sighed, "Why do I think this is going to be a long wait?"

Tyson ignored her, now too absorbed in his new game. "The first time Hilary saw Kai was in a picture. Oh, and I'm saying this like I'm giving the toast," Tyson explained before clearing his throat. "I remember her words so clearly, finding them touching. She wanted to know who the... bodacious bombshell was..."

"I said he was cute!" Hilary interjected.

"Hey, I'm telling the story here. I wish I could write this stuff down," Tyson grinned, "We explained, me and Kenny, that this bodacious bombshell was our very... uh, shy friend Kai. She then admitted he wasn't as attractive as me, but felt she would fall for the very social and upbeat person he was deep, deep, _deep_ inside."

Hilary sighed again, knowing she wasn't being heard at all. She uncrossed her arms, choosing instead to prop one on top of the counter and lean her cheek into the palm.

"When Kai met Hilary... well, I guess he saw something because they're getting married today."

"That's it?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"Well... Kai doesn't talk much," Tyson shrugged, "It's not like he nudged me and said something. I don't have much to work with."

"Because everything else you said was so accurate."

"I thought so," he agreed with a nod, smirking at her sceptical expression. "I can't really say much about the other guys either... Well, maybe Max. I think I'd have something embarrassing to say no matter who he married."

"I guess... he does tend to flirt a lot when he gets talking to girls," Hilary stated, finding that she did see some truth in Tyson's statement. "Not so much lately... maybe he's found someone?"

The boy watched Hilary blankly as she seemed to look upward dreamily. "I don't think so," he shook his head, "We have an unspoken code, we'd definitely tell each other if we were dating someone."

The brunette returned his gaze. "An unspoken code where you discuss your love lives?"

"Just because the code is unspoken doesn't mean we can't talk," Tyson explained, rolling his eyes. "Guys tell each other these things, that way we won't be butting heads with each other."

"I don't think you're much competition," Hilary laughed, causing Tyson's expression to crumble in annoyance. "And I've seen enough TV dramas to know that doesn't work."

"We're not on TV, Hil."

"Not denying the competition part, I see," the girl continued to tease lightly. "How many times have you actually sat down with the rest of the team and talked about girls?"

Tyson coughed, "We don't sit down and talk... it's not like that."

Hilary gave him a peculiar look. "Uh... okay. So how do you talk then, by standing? Through letters? Carrier pigeons?"

"Ha ha," Tyson mocked, "The topic hasn't really come up yet. That's why Max can't be seeing anyone, it's impossible. Why wouldn't he tell us?"

"I don't even know if there is someone, I was just saying he wasn't being as flirty as usual."

"I bet you talk to the girls about guys just the same," Tyson commented, "So you don't end up scratching each other's eyes out or pulling hair."

"What girls? I spend most of my time drowning in testosterone hanging around you guys," Hilary scoffed, "And, again, I've seen enough TV dramas to know that isn't true."

"Oh, yeah right. You probably call up Mariah or Emily on the weekends to dish about us guys," Tyson smirked, once again finding pleasure in Hilary's annoyance. He held up his hand to his ear as if he was using a telephone. "Hey girlfriend! You should've seen Tyson during training this week," he mocked, lifting his voice up a few octaves, "What a major babe! You should see his muscles; I bet one day, he could lift cars."

"I never realized you were so attached to your feminine side, Tyson," Hilary retorted, she was somewhat awestruck by his impression and how high his voice could go. "Unfortunately, that's not what I do on the weekends."

Tyson reasoned, "So that's what you write in your diary?"

"Of course," Hilary said sarcastically, "I even announce what I'm writing in that same shrill voice."

"You think very highly of me then," Tyson laughed, flexing his arms as a joke. "Today weights, tomorrow cars."

The brunette leaned further into her hand, smiling at how bizarre this conversation was. "Whatever you say, girlfriend."

Tyson returned her smile gratefully. "You know, if I had to be stuck in a washroom with anyone, I'm glad it was you."

"Really?" Hilary asked, hearing the hint of sincerity.

"Of course," he nodded, "I think when your bladder is about to explode, you should be with someone you really care about."

"You're not going to the washroom with me still in the room!" Hilary groaned, making sure she still had control of the situation. She planted her feet firmly on the floor, hands at her sides in case she needed them. "Is that why you've been sweet talking me this whole time?"

"Sweet talking?" Tyson repeated incredulously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm pretty sure I've been making fun of you this whole time."

"No, really?" Hilary frowned, "I'm not stupid. We were teasing each other; I just thought it was all in good fun, not in manipulation."

"Manipulation?" the boy questioned, he straightened his back while still sitting. Tyson could hear the sound of laughter from outside whenever the buzz of the microphone died briefly. "See, even they're laughing at you. It's like we're on a sitcom."

Hilary turned her head away from him, expressing she wasn't impressed with his attitude. "Jerk."

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but my bladder is about to burst," Tyson growled, the sound escaping from his throat through clenched teeth. He jumped to his feet, making the decision to pace the length of the room to get his mind off things. "This could be considered torture..."

"Let's talk about something else," the brunette suggested. She put a single finger to her chin and began to tap it. "We can talk about rivers and waterfalls or that single drip of water that just keeps coming out of the tap..."

"Shut-up," Tyson snapped.

"I was just kidding. What do you want to talk about?"

"How about possible escape routes?" Tyson answered, throwing his arms up for emphasis. "There's got to be a way out of here."

"There is," Hilary told him with a roll of her eyes, "It's called someone using the doorknob from the other side; we established this."

"Well, there's got to be a way in here too!" the navy haired boy decided, pumping his fist. Hilary continued to stare at him unimpressed. "We could bust down the door? I'm sure that would be easy, just take a good charge at it."

Hilary had to wonder what went through Tyson's head from day to day for him to think that was a good idea. "Oh, that would just be fantastic. I'm sure my parents won't mind at all that you destroyed a part of our home."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"Waiting."

"I meant good suggestions, ones where we take action. What if no one ever comes up here?" Tyson inquired with a shrug of his shoulders. "What if everyone has already forgotten about us?"

"Yes, what are the odds my parents will not only forget the existence of their only child, but also fail to use the washroom ever again?" Hilary hummed in thought, "I'm going to have to guess that's not going to happen."

"You have to look at the worst case scenario," Tyson pointed out, turning on his feet to make another round in the small room. "Just because you refuse to pay attention to it, doesn't mean it's not going to happen."

"Know what else isn't going to happen?" Hilary said, giving him a pointed look, "You busting down our washroom door."

"I get it, no busting down doors," Tyson looked upward as he continued to walk back and forth across the room. "No vents to crawl through either. Probably no secret passage ways... your Dad would somehow install that backwards."

The brunette made a face. "Secret passage ways are usually accessible from both sides. Not that we have one..."

"Doors are usually accessible from both sides too, isn't that funny?" Tyson stopped to play with the doorknob. "And yet, it doesn't do anything at all."

"Technically it's locked, so it is doing something."

Tyson let out a huff of air from his nose in aggravation. "Whatever," he let go of the door, returning to his strive. "Think you could help come up with an idea? It is your house."

Hilary shrugged, remaining seated. "You could always walk back and forth so much that you eventually break through the floor, freeing us."

"I thought breaking things was out of the question?" the navy haired boy smirked, "I'm pretty tempted to break something at this point."

The brunette ignored his remark. "I don't know. Do you have a cell phone on you?"

"You freaked out on me for wearing a hat, do you think I would've brought a cell phone to a wedding service?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, you did bring your hat," Hilary reasoned, growing more and more frustrated with the boy.

"Hats don't ring and interrupt services," Tyson retorted, pointing to his friend with conviction. "I could just picture you strangling me after the wedding, so I left my cell phone at home. Didn't think it would be appropriate."

"Not that I don't agree with you," Hilary said honestly, finding that Tyson had made somewhat of a good choice in the last twenty-four hours, "But we ended up interrupting the whole thing anyway."

"Still more classier than a cell phone ringing," Tyson decided, "I think even your family would agree with that."

"Maybe."

"Do you have a cell phone on you?"

Hilary shook her head, holding out her empty hands as proof. "No pockets or purse on me, sorry."

"That's alright," Tyson rubbed his chin in thought, "I still think there's got to be a way out of here."

"We could always listen?" Hilary suggested.

"Are you saying I talk too much?" Tyson shot back as a reflex.

"Well you do, but maybe someone's in the house. Downstairs or something."

Tyson nodded in agreement to the idea. He silently walked toward the washroom door, putting his ear against it. Hilary re-crossed her legs as she too listened for any noise in the house, willing to welcome it to escape her current confines. Both of them stayed silent for the next couple of minutes, but to no avail. The house remained as quiet as they did.

Removing himself from the door, Tyson ran a hand through his hair. "I don't suppose your Dad kept any tools in here? Screwdrivers or anything so I can get the hinges off."

"I doubt it. My Dad's not a handyman, like I said, so he doesn't even own his own tools," Hilary went back to propping herself up against the counter, having grown tired of the whole situation. "I think he borrowed them from one of my Uncles or the neighbours; either way, it's not going to be much help."

Smacking the wall again with his fist, Tyson bit his lip. "This is getting ridiculous. Are they still toasting each other outside?"

Hilary paused to listen for noise outside. It didn't take long to pick up the constant buzzing of the microphone again while it was in use. She nodded, "Sounds like it."

"Oh man, doesn't anyone in your family know how to shut-up?" Tyson's shoulders sunk in disappointment as he bowed his head. Hearing Hilary scoff, he smiled sheepishly. "Uh... that was my bladder speaking."

"I don't really know what else to say," Hilary said, choosing to ignore him once again. It was better than getting in a fight in such close quarters. "I guess we don't have any other choice but to wait."

Tyson sighed, returning to his seat on the rim of the bathtub across from Hilary. "That depends. How are your sewers? Maybe if we flush your toilet enough your yard will flood."

"Can you please stop coming up with ways to destroy my home?" Hilary frowned.

"I guess," he moaned, staring at the tiled floor in sadness. "It's just, I can't think of anything else and we've been stuck in here for a while."

She nodded in understanding. "Are you getting claustrophobic?"

"Haven't you been listening?" Tyson met her gaze briefly, his eyes holding a great amount of disbelief. "I have to go to the washroom! I figured you would know and all seeing as how you're dead set against me going." With a scowl, his gaze fell back to the tiles.

"I don't care if you go, just not when I'm here," Hilary reminded, "Because that's still disgusting. I think you can wait until someone comes up here."

"Well I'm glad you think so, that's a relief," Tyson said sarcastically. "We're back to the main problem, everyone is out there."

He extended his arm boldly, his finger pointing toward the small window in the room. Hilary could see by his expression that the wheels in Tyson's brain had started to turn. He quickly looked up to the window as he jumped to his feet, a smile gracing his mouth.

"What?" Hilary asked curiously.

"I'm an idiot! There's been a way to escape this whole time," the navy haired boy cheered, jabbing his finger for emphasis toward the window repeatedly. "The window, it's big enough for us to go through and it leads out onto your first floor's roof, right?"

"Yeah...," Hilary admitted slowly, "But..."

"Don't tell me your Dad installed that too," Tyson deflated again, his shoulders slumping at the thought. "Let me guess... you have to be outside to open it?"

"No," she shook her head thoughtfully, "My Dad didn't install the windows. We paid a company to do that for us."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's broken. The window cracked shortly after it was put in," Hilary explained, looking up to the window. "So I don't know if it opens. Nobody's touched it in case it would crack more."

Tyson stared at the window in determination. "Well, let's get cracking."

"Here we go again with the destroying of my home," the brunette sighed, watching as Tyson evaluated the situation. "Can you even reach it?"

"I don't know," he revealed. He stepped onto the rim of the bathtub, balancing himself as he twisted in the direction of the window. Reaching for the window, he was unable to get a good enough grip to handle the frame because of his angle. "So close..."

Tyson jumped down from the bathtub, his eyes still rested intensely on their sole means of escape. "Now what?"

He smiled, turning his attention back to Hilary. "I got it," he snapped his fingers, "Stand up."

"Why...?" Hilary asked cautiously. She stood up slowly, continuing to block the toilet in case he had a devious trick planned.

"You're going to help me," Tyson decided, "Here's the plan. I'm going to pick you up and you're going to open the window. If we can't climb out, you can at least call for help."

She stared at him with uncertainty, not very fond of Tyson lifting her into the air; especially in a place with so many things she could potentially hit her head on. But from the hopeful expression on his face, Hilary figured she had no other choice.

"How about it?" Tyson asked, worried after getting no response.

With a sigh, the girl shrugged. "Fine."

"Awesome," he grinned, making her roll her eyes. "I guess you should maybe stand on the toilet... that would probably be the easiest way."

"For you, I assume," Hilary retorted, taking Tyson's hand as he helped her stand on the questionable surface. "I'm the one in heels after all. This could go wrong."

"I'm not going to let you fall," Tyson stated. He had originally planned to hold onto Hilary from around her legs, but now, as he stood there, he hesitated.

"Well?" Hilary questioned in irritation. Her arms were out at her side in an attempt to hold onto her balance.

Tyson coughed nervously, "Heh... I guess I just never thought how awkward this would be." To hide his blush, he decided to just go along with the plan. He wrapped his arms tightly around her legs before lifting her off the unsteady seat of the toilet, causing her to squeal in nervousness. "Just don't kick me in the crotch."

Hilary grappled onto the frame of the window for some extra balance. "Then don't you dare drop me."

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed in strain, making sure he had a good hold of the female. "How about you check the window now?"

"I am," she scolded. Hilary flicked the latches that kept the window sealed and then attempted to lift up the bulky frame. "It's not working." She decided to play with the latches again before going to lift the window. "It won't budge."

"Seriously?" Tyson grumbled, miffed that the only sensible idea hadn't worked. He stepped away from the window, again making Hilary squeal in uneasiness; her hands clutched onto his head, gripping to his hair in fear. "Aah! Jeez," he shouted, slowly letting her down to sit on the bathroom counter. Her grip did not falter, her arms moving to remain around his neck regardless of her safety. "This is unbelievable..."

The click of the door startled both teens, having not heard the house make a noise signalling another visitor. Tyson and Hilary turned to stare at Mr. Tatibana, their faces cheek to cheek, as anger enveloped her Father's expression.

He swiftly walked into the room, grabbing a hold of Tyson's upper arm. "Get away from my daughter," he seethed, forcefully moving him toward the now open doorway. Hilary gulped at the scene playing before her. "First I catch you in the closet, and now the bathroom?"

Tyson was confused by the man's brash behaviour and exactly why he was being yelled at like a common criminal. "Don't blame me; maybe you should learn how to install a door correctly."

"Leave," Mr. Tatibana snapped, pointing toward the staircase down the hall. "Go home. You're not allowed to see my daughter anymore."

"Dad," Hilary started.

"No. My decision is final," Mr. Tatibana disregarded his daughter's words, his gaze still penetrating an unmoving Tyson. "I don't care how many excuses you have for him, he's not an acceptable boyfriend. I don't even know why you would consider him one, you deserve so much better."

Tyson looked pass the angered man to meet Hilary's gaze, which she soon avoided. "Boyfriend?" he repeated slowly.

"I knew when I first heard about you dating my daughter I wouldn't be impressed. I don't even know why I let Hilary convince me to give you a chance," her Father continued, "You've done nothing but upset and embarrass my family since you got here."

Tyson nodded slowly, his brain working out everything and the realizations were beginning to get under his skin. "I guess she should've just been honest from the start..."

"Don't blame this on my daughter. Leave."

"No problem," the navy haired boy said, giving one final look to Hilary. His voice was low and his expression was dark. "I don't think I want to be here, anyway."


	12. Chapter 11: Sink Ships

**Author's Note**: Oh, hey. Sorry this chapter took a little longer than the other two, I was pretty busy between having a guest in our home, the holidays, and starting school in early January. Also, this chapter is a bit on the short side, but it's the best I could do without intruding on the other chapters to come.

Thanks to **sheneverupdates**, **Artemis of Luna**, **Sony89**, **sanaa**, **Maou**, **ayushi**, **Kenrai**, **DayDreaming0f y0u**, **InuNarufan01**, **peachesbunny**, **blueanimefreak**, **TeenageDream92**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **saekuto**, **S. Ivanov**, **Kamakaze Kheri**, **ToraHimeSama**, **rach**, and **Shiningheart of ThunderClan** for the reviews! It's really appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade.

Chapter Eleven: Sink Ships

Hilary's heart had dropped and risen unhealthily at the same time. It was the only way to describe it. She could feel the gut wrenching churning of her stomach feeding on her heart, while simultaneously her throat was closing quickly around it. It was horrible. She had no idea that watching Tyson vanishing from her sight could make her feel this way.

She immediately glanced to her Father, his back still facing her as he silently seethed over the boy. Hilary took this to her advantage and slid carefully off the counter, letting her heels touch the floor with care. This was not the time for abruptness, unless she wanted to end up toppled over on the ground.

Mr. Tatibana ran a hand through his hair slowly, unconsciously feeling for the gray strands that were surely now growing on his head. Side stepping around her Father, Hilary attempted to pass him by without dealing with his undeniable questions.

"Where do you think you're going?" Things again weren't working in Hilary's favour. She hesitated on her trip around her Father; she didn't want to stop for too long, allowing Tyson to leave in his angered haze.

"Dad... It's not what you think."

When her Father met her gaze, her heart felt like it dropped another notch. His dark eyes were tired, creased, and disappointed as they looked into her own. They reminded her of Tyson's moments ago and a pang of guilt struck her. "What do I think?"

"Tyson's not a bad guy. He didn't do anything," Hilary side stepped toward the door cautiously. She, unfortunately, could not hide this from her Father as he knowingly watched her.

"Don't make me disappoint your Mother," he warned, his lips stretched thin.

Hilary resisted the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance, knowing it would only provoke him further and work against her favour in the long run. "We didn't do anything," she sighed, heading out the door with as much reluctance she could showcase for her Father. "He's a good guy."

She felt the need to repeat that thought as she hurried down the hallway once she knew her Father could no longer see her. With every stride she focused purely on not losing any more time. She held her arms out at her side in her balancing act, reaching the end of the long stretch of hallway to meet her greatest foe: the staircase.

Latching onto the railing with both hands, she quickly manoeuvred her way down the foreboding steps. Her feet stumbled over each other, the heels betraying her occasionally and causing one of her legs to flail about. She soon became skilled at regaining her footing and luckily had not toppled over completely.

Hilary could hear the sound of a few voices within her house now; she assumed her Father had gotten away because the toasts were now over. Not recognizing any of their voices, she decided to ignore the mingling guests in her home as she finally descended the last step.

Barrelling into the door, she pulled it open as she once again successfully fell forward. Falling uncomfortably to her knees with her palms on the ground, she could feel the initial sting of contact. Hilary hastily tossed the pain aside; her head bouncing up to quickly scan the front of her home for Tyson.

It took her a moment to see him, but he was across the road illuminated by the lights that decorated the darkened street. "Tyson!" Hilary called loudly, her voice probably breaking up numerous conversations in her backyard.

The boy stopped walking, but the brunette was unable to see his face. It wasn't that he was too far away, his back was to her. He was standing rigid under a lamp post, she could see he had his hands balled up down at his sides.

Carefully standing up from the ground, Hilary nervously wiped herself off. "Tyson?" she called again for extra measure, hoping to get him back.

He turned on his heels to face her, the light accentuating his angered features. Shadows enveloped a great deal of his face from where he was standing; his bangs and furrowed eyebrows worked together to mask his dark, intense eyes. His body language refused to relent; anger was feeding its way through his system.

The pangs of guilt for Hilary kept coming, her own body language crumbled at his very appearance. She couldn't muster yelling out his name again, feeling she no longer had that privilege. She hadn't seen him look so betrayed and upset in a long time; and even then, it was never directed at her. She wanted to fall to the ground again, ashamed of how she had acted. "Tyson...," she whispered.

Breaking out of his statue mind set, Tyson turned his attention briefly to the road. He looked both ways momentarily before he made his way back toward Hilary in front of her home. As he passed the lights, the brunette could see his unrelenting gaze even better and the down turn of his lips.

He dragged his feet over her lawn, cutting the length of the yard to get to the brunette quicker. He stopped short of her, leaving a noticeably large gap between them as he shifted his jaw back and forth in silence. Tyson merely stared coldly back at the female, awaiting what was so important he had to come back.

Hilary bit her lip at the painful silence; she hated seeing him in such a state, such indescribable anger. She didn't know what to say, what words could possibly leave her mouth to make everything better, to make everything go back to normal. She hesitated, "Tyson..."

"Mind telling me what I'm doing here?" Hilary flinched. She had heard him say that before, in her dream. But this time he wasn't wearing a wedding dress, he was in a tuxedo she made Kai get him for this occasion. And, she didn't think this was possible, his voice was rawer than in her dream. He was so angry his voice turned low and quaky, the intensity too much for his vocal cords. He stared at her so unforgiving, it tugged at her heart. "I'm waiting. Why am I here?"

Hilary opened her mouth to speak, but no words were willing to escape. Her body was trembling and she was sure it was going to reverberate into her voice. She pushed forward nonetheless, forcing sound to come out of her mouth unwillingly. "I'm... so sorry...," the brunette finally choked out, her wide eyes meeting his unusual hardened ones.

"I don't care," he bit back, his tongue lashing more snide than usual. Tyson refused to relent as Hilary's expression crumbled further. He watched as she tried to maintain what little composure she had left. "That doesn't answer my question."

Hilary ducked her head down somewhat, lip trembling slightly from the prospect of talking and hurting her friend again. She very much doubted she was even considered a friend anymore from the animosity he was giving off.

"Tell me why I'm here!" Tyson shouted. He had reached his limit a while ago and could no longer grasp his temper in an attempt to hold back. Honestly, he felt he now had the right to be frustrated with the girl; unlike all those other times, she had stepped over the boundaries.

"I'm sorry...," those were the only words that Hilary could utter. Her vision became clouded with tears as she bit her lower lip sharply, she needed to hold back from crying in front of him. He wasn't the bad guy this time.

"It's not a hard question to answer," he scowled bitterly. Tyson's eyes bore into hers without fail, challenging her to lie to him once again. "I'm getting the suspicion you're suddenly having trouble with the truth."

Hilary bowed her head down even further, avoiding his eye contact all together. She heard him grunt as a response to this, causing her to shift uncomfortably. She played with her hands in front of her in silence, at a loss of what to say.

"I mean, if you're lying to your own Father, what can I expect?" Tyson continued, his words laced in something reminiscent of sarcasm. He waited unmoving for a response, his frustration causing all of his bones to keep him in place. "Say something, Hilary. Unless you don't think I deserve it."

Hilary grimaced at his words. The way he said her name... it sounded like the very pronunciation made him sick. Yet she was still unable to fathom what she could say to him to make everything go away.

Awarded with silence once again, Tyson let out a breath of air in annoyance. "Thanks," he said darkly, turning around in preparation to finally walk away.

"Tyson," Hilary's voice squeaked. Having not gotten far once again, the boy stopped to face the girl as perturbed as ever.

"What?" he asked shrugging. His movements were erratic and over the top, his anger building on newer levels. "Are you going to actually talk to me now or continue to waste my time?"

The brunette met his intense gaze uncertainly. She needed to force herself to speak or face the consequences of pushing Tyson over another edge. "I...," her voice cracked as it met the open air between them, "I didn't mean to..."

"You didn't _mean_ to?" Tyson repeated, rolling his eyes at the first thing she decided to tell him. His fists clenched harder together as he waved his arms spastically at his sides. "Let me tell you something, you meant it. You can't just tell your Father we're dating by accident and then never tell him the truth. You _meant_ to lie, or you would've fixed it by the time I got here. Don't kid yourself."

Hilary swallowed uncomfortably at his tirade, guilt washing over her whole body. She could feel it affecting her in so many ways. Her stomach was churning, her pulse was frantic, and her hands were shaking. She should've listened to Ray and the others; she should've been honest from the start.

"And that's just what you told your Father. Who knows what you told everyone else," he shook his head in disgust. "And, you know what, I normally wouldn't care at all what you did if it didn't affect me. Just how many lies do affect me? Was this whole wedding a sham?"

She wanted to say that all of her Aunt Veronica's weddings were a sham or that the vows were bound to not last, but she figured Tyson wasn't in the mood for any jokes. "The wedding's real...," her voice shook as she anticipated his reply.

"You know that's not what I meant. Stop playing around, just tell me the truth," Tyson was speaking through his teeth now, his jaw set tightly in his already worn through patience. "If you can handle that," he added flatly.

"I didn't want to lie," Hilary told him softly. She strained to look at him for long periods of time, his pained expression continuing to break her down. "I had to..."

"No you didn't!" Tyson interrupted, his voice coming out as a snarl. He took a few more steps toward her daringly; every muscle in his body was tensed in comparison to Hilary's current composure. "Stop with the excuses, I don't want to hear them. I thought I made myself clear."

"You don't understand...," she told him wearily, her retort not holding much confidence. "You don't understand, my family..."

"Oh, I get your family now," he forced his laughter bitingly as he shook his head. He gestured a thumb toward himself, "I know they now think I'm a huge jerk. A dog. I made a total idiot of myself because of you, do you not realize that? They think I'm just using you... that I'm one of those guys that just jump from one girl to the next. Do you think I want to be known like that? What if all that stuff gets out there? You could have just singlehandedly ruined my reputation. They may not have an idea of who I am, but I guarantee they're going to talk."

Hilary hadn't thought of that. She watched as his shoulders moved up and down in time with his rapid breathing. "I'm sorry...," she repeated again, "Between my family and you... I just didn't know what to do..."

"Me?" Tyson scoffed, letting out another long breath of air from his mouth in annoyance. "Are you trying to say I brought this on myself?"

"No... no," Hilary sighed, looking out toward the road that was decorated with her extended family's cars for a distraction. "I didn't know how to tell you about what happened... the guys were kind of split about what to do too. I just thought it would be easier if I..."

"The _guys_?"

Her stomach dropped further as it churned. She probably shouldn't have mentioned them and dragged them even further into her issues. Kenny had been right about her keeping her mouth shut and not covering lies with more lies; the paths she had chosen only brought her problems.

"All of them knew?" Tyson asked, new anger rising in his already boiling veins. She nodded meekly. "That's why Max was here the other day? And why Kai agreed to get me this tux? And why Kenny knew so much about the invitation?" Hilary nodded again reluctantly. "I'm going to kill them."

"They were just trying to help me out," Hilary tried to change his mind, not wanting his betrayal to be coursed through the entire team.

"Yeah, by lying to me in the process," Tyson spat, "What kind of friends do that? Apparently I can't trust anyone on my own team."

"I don't think Daichi knew...," she realized in an attempt to console him.

"Great," he rolled his eyes.

"Kai was the only one that didn't care what I did. Ray, Max, and Kenny kept urging me to tell you the truth...," Hilary tried to explain to him in an attempt to clear her friends' names. "Max only helped me because he's Max... I threatened Kenny. Ray really wanted me to tell you, so please don't be mad at them. Be mad at me, you have reason to..."

"I have reason to be mad at whoever I want," Tyson stated, crossing his arms with his hands still closed in fists. "Tell me... what you said about that kid; was it all a lie too?"

"Yeah...," she admitted weakly.

"You must be very happy I didn't see him at all? Things were going very well for you," Tyson continued dryly, the slight quake in his voice still present. "You were never going to tell me. You were ready to make me an inside joke for your family."

"I didn't want to do that," Hilary frowned, knowing his hurting over the situation was stemming deep. "I just wanted to get them to shut-up..."

"No. You wanted them to have someone else to talk about. Thanks so much."

Hilary opened her mouth to protest when a light suddenly basked the two of them. The brunette turned to look at who opened the front door of her house to see her Father standing disapprovingly with his hand on the door; a few people stood in the house as well, looking their way curiously. Tyson squinted through the light, uncrossing his arms to block direct contact with his eyes with his hand.

"I thought I told you to leave," Mr. Tatibana hissed, not wanting to make a huge scene.

"I'm leaving," Tyson stated, turning away from the light so his eyes could adjust back to the darkness. His intense gaze bounded for Hilary's once more, "I think we're done anyway."

Hilary pressed her lips together firmly, not knowing what to say. Her vision became blurred once again as she watched the boy stalk away in clear frustration. Her Father cleared his throat behind her, signalling for her to come back into the house and forget all about the boy that was supposedly not worth her time.

She turned on her heels cautiously; passing her Father with her head turned the other way. He didn't need to see her tears. Closing the door with finality, Mr. Tatibana let out a breath of air, "Good riddance."


	13. Chapter 12: Rinse And Repeat

**Author's Note**: Sorry for another long wait, I guess I just lost track of time? Fortunately this time it was only school that stopped me from doing any writing. I am still aiming to have this finished by the end of the year, which I think is entirely possible considering there are only two more chapters and then an epilogue!

I would like to thank **Just Mein**, **Sony89**, **Shiningheart of ThunderClan**, **Teenage Dream92**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **Kenrai**, **sheneverupdates**, **Hunny Spectrum**, **ToraHimeSama**, **Artemis of Luna**, **sanaa**, **Dragon Reverb**, **ayushi**, **imma-pink-buble**, **Peachesbunny**, **DayDreaming0f y0u**, **TwistedImaginings**, **Bara Shibenjin**, , **MePo**, **XxGoddess-Of-LovexX** as well as somebody who didn't list a name for the reviews! It amazes me with every update that people are sticking with this story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Twelve: Rinse and Repeat

Hilary avoided eye contact with the guests mingling in her home. She merely saw them in her peripheral vision slowly leaving the area to just her and her Father, someone she did not have the desire to spend time with at the moment. She had heard him close the door and mumble something to himself, probably something that praised the absence of Tyson.

She figured her Father was waiting for her to turn around and be happy with his desire to exile Tyson from their home. He was often delirious to what Hilary actually wanted most of the time, too busy in his own clouded world.

"What was he doing back here?" Mr. Tatibana asked lowly, his voice trying to grasp onto his own temper. He figured there were still guests mingling in their home somewhere and he didn't want to raise his voice.

"He hadn't exactly left yet...," Hilary's voice flared in contrast. She hadn't been able to speak in Tyson's presence, too ashamed of what she had done to hurt him, but her voice hadn't betrayed her when it came to her Father. In fact, she found herself angry in his presence.

"Don't speak to me in that tone. When I tell someone to leave, they have to leave," Mr. Tatibana warned. "And look at me when I'm taking to you."

Hilary scowled before turning around and facing him. She was lingering on a wall for balance, still unimpressed with her shoes as much as she was with her Father. The brunette watched as his eyes flickered for a moment from where he was standing, his body still poised by the front door as if he was guarding it.

"You're crying...," Mr. Tatibana deduced, his expression crumbling in further anger. "He made you cry?"

She rolled her eyes blatantly this time, no longer caring for the onslaught of paternal jargon she was about to hear. "Yeah Dad, _he_ made me cry," Hilary retorted sarcastically. She removed herself entirely from the wall and headed for the backyard, now finished with the conversation.

"Hilary Tatibana," her Father called, frustration clearly kicking in full gear for his daughter. "We're not done talking."

"I think we are," Hilary sighed, opening the back door of their home and escaping to the party being held. She couldn't believe she had just talked to her Father like that; without a doubt in her mind, she was going to be in trouble when the wedding ended.

Music now filled her backyard, the lights her Mom had set up giving the scene some ambiance. People were dancing with each other while others enjoyed their drinks and finger foods at their table. Hilary weaved her way through the crowds of people, her eyes set on the lonely corner of the party where she could sulk and watch other people enjoy themselves. It was also a place where she would be hidden, hopefully, from her parents as long as nobody pointed her out.

Making it to the vacant table, Hilary sat down with her arms folded on the top. She sat her chin on her arms and just took in the scene. So many people looked like they were having a fantastic time and she had just lost one of the most important people in her life. Hilary wished she could have blamed it on her Father's big mouth, but the fact of the matter was that it was unfortunately hereditary.

She watched her Father leave the house, hand woven through his hair in his usual frustrated posture. His eyes darted across the yard quickly in an attempt to find his daughter. Instead his eyes caught sight of his wife and he decided to approach her. Hilary frowned at this, knowing her Mother might now blame her for any state of the wedding.

Fortunately for Hilary, her Mother had not caught sight of her. She shrugged in the distant conversation, her attention stuck to the groom and bride as she waved off her husband. The brunette hazard a guess that she hadn't quite heard what her Father told her; the words, "Hilary... blah blah... Tyson... blah," most likely sifted through her ears.

Hilary was a bit relieved at this, knowing her Mother probably could have honed in on her much faster than her oblivious Father could. He quickly gave up talking to his wife, turning in the opposite side of the yard and walking away. Another stroke of luck for the girl, not that she revelled in it, considering the situation.

She merely sighed at her position, her heart continuing to sink and finding new lows. The fact that everyone continued to have fun was starting to bother her, not that she could do anything. Now was definitely not the right time for that.

"Where's scrawny at?" Hilary knew her luck wouldn't last as, despite her best efforts, someone noticed her. That someone ended up being her Grandfather, Thomas. He limped over to the table with the usual sour look on his face; she noticed his cane was having about as much luck as her heels on the grass.

"Tyson's not here," Hilary stated matter-of-factly. She knew her voice came off more annoyed than she meant, the overall sting of events thriving in her system.

Thomas was not impressed with her obvious remark. "The boy can't handle a little teasing or does he have the bladder of a toddler?" Hilary could hear the taunting smirk in his voice without even looking and she desperately wanted to recoil in anger.

"He left," the brunette sent him a look of offense, "Dad made him."

"About time," Thomas praised, hitting one of Hilary's chair legs with his cane lightly. "First smart thing my son's done in a while."

"There's nothing wrong with Tyson," Hilary snapped, making the older man scoff at her attitude.

"You don't need _boys_ like that hanging around. You need genuine, well-behaved men that work hard and can accomplish things," Thomas lectured, his rough personality taking hold. "The only thing that kid had accomplished is being an embarrassment."

"You don't know a single thing about Tyson; you didn't even give him a chance before starting to pick him apart," Hilary scowled. "And what exactly have you accomplished tonight that makes you better than him?"

Her Grandfather stared at her for a few moments, a look of surprise etched on his face briefly before it vanished into one of anger. "This is a great example of what boys like _him_ do to young impressionable girls," Thomas stated matter-of-factly, "Just wait until your parents hear about this attitude change of yours, he'll be out of your life for good."

With that, her Grandfather walked away in annoyance; she watched him stumble along with his cane, not bothering to comment that Tyson had just left her on his own. Hilary was not even worried about her parents' reaction knowing she was already in trouble; she assumed the amount could not change by that much. Her parents should know by now that her Father's side always had her on edge.

Hilary laid her chin in her hand again as she leaned on the table. She stared once more at the crowd of people that had overtaken her yard tonight; more people had gathered in celebration, blocking her view from where her parents had remained last.

"Ahem... um," Hilary turned her attention to the next relative that had noticed her alone, her new Uncle Greg. He smiled wanly at the teenager, giving a meek wave from a safe distance away; she gathered by his behaviour that he had met some of her cousins first. "You're Hilary... right? All these names are kind of scrambling together in my head, so if I'm wrong, I'm sorry..."

Hilary pulled a smile for the groom, knowing her Aunt Veronica was often a difficult person to deal with. "No, you're right. I'm Hilary. Cue cards did you well this time."

Uncle Greg smiled back, clearly relieved. He approached his new niece with his gathered confidence. "That's good. Trying my best to put faces to names," he continued on, studying the young girl, "Are you okay, you look kind of down? If there is something wrong with the wedding, please tell me instead of Veronica."

The brunette leaned back in her chair, dropping her arms so that they laid flat on the table. She couldn't help but crack a smile at his worried tone, as always, Aunt Veronica had this effect on men. "The wedding's fine," Hilary calmed the groom once again as he let out a deep breath. "I'm having Dad problems... Sort of."

"Oh," Uncle Greg nodded, acting as if he knew all about the problems girls had with their Fathers. He scratched his head awkwardly, his fingers brushing against his overly gelled hair that his new wife demanded he get done for the wedding. "Weren't you with a boy earlier?"

"Tyson," Hilary acknowledged. She had noticed the sudden change in topics, but decided to let it drop. "Part of my Dad problems, he made Tyson leave."

"Oh," Uncle Greg repeated, managing to walk into the same conversation despite his attempt to make small talk. He nodded a few times before he was hit with a sudden realization. "Wait... it's not because of what happened during the wedding, is it? He didn't have to leave, I mean... I'm happy things are out there now... Well, maybe happy isn't the right word..."

"Not exactly," the brunette interrupted his trail of thought, making him nod a few more times. "My Dad overreacted about some other stuff..."

"You don't want to talk about it," he concluded, relieved yet again. He didn't exactly want to talk about it either as he had no wishes of stepping over any brother-in-law boundaries. "But honestly, I'm glad I found out about the Kyles beforehand... Not that it was _really_ in advance, I was at the altar..."

"You're welcome?" Hilary gave a half smile, finding that she liked this Uncle. Too bad he wasn't going to last long.

"So about those other Kyles...?"

"Gregory!"

Hilary watched as the poor guy jumped at the sound of his wife's booming voice. Both of them turned their attention to Veronica storming toward them as she hefted her dress along by grabbing two different areas at the front and holding them in such a way to make walking easier.

"I've been looking _everywhere_ for you," Veronica zoned in on her husband, annoyance written on her face. "You're supposed to be introducing yourself to people; I haven't seen you in minutes!"

Greg stammered, "I am. I was talking to your niece, Hilary."

Veronica looked passed her husband to Hilary, giving her a blank stare. "We've discussed this Gregory, strict time limit. There's simply too many people here to just bum around," the bride lectured, "You introduce yourself, say something witty, ask if they're enjoying themselves, compliment how beautiful I am, then move onto the next person."

"But," Greg continued to stammer.

Veronica rolled her eyes, attention switching back to Hilary in a flash. "Did he do this?"

"To a T," Hilary evaluated. She felt bad for lying given her current situation with Tyson, but seeing the stress deflate from within her new Uncle was almost worth it.

"Good," Veronica waved Greg off, "Go find someone else then. Rinse and repeat."

The groom sighed, once again defeated. He waved to Hilary gratefully, "It was very nice to meet you." The brunette merely returned the gesture as she noticed her Aunt had not budged.

"Where'd that boy go?" Veronica narrowed her eyes suspiciously, just noticing her niece's date had not been present. "Off bothering other people?"

Hilary let out a sigh, seeing a constant theme in her relative's conversations. "Dad made him leave," she said simply, hoping her Aunt wouldn't dig for details.

"And why is that...?" Aunt Veronica quirked an eyebrow with interest. Hilary should have known better than to assume her Aunt wasn't always searching for new gossip to spread. The brunette studied her Aunt's face, watching as it displayed faux concern and intrigue. "Don't tell me my brother actually punished the kid for destroying my wedding?"

Hilary thought destroying was a strong word for the previous incident, but decided on stifling her opinions for her own good. "No," she answered, her Aunt's face crinkling at the news.

"Of course not." Veronica rolled her eyes, "What the hooligan do then?"

"Nothing," Hilary spat, "And his name is Tyson."

Her Aunt stared at her unimpressed once again, much like most of her family's facial expression that night when speaking with her for a long duration of time. "I do believe it is my wedding and not yours, so hold off on the attitude," the bride frowned, "Besides, it's not my fault your boyfriend didn't make the cut."

The brunette groaned, "He didn't do anything."

"_Right_... That's why he got the kick," her Aunt sighed dramatically. She placed a hand on her niece's shoulder, empathy the last emotion in her gaze. "You could do a lot better than him honestly; it looked like you just picked him up off the street. Let me give you some boy advice..."

"I think you're the last person to be giving boy advice." Hilary froze as soon as she realized those words had not just remained in her thoughts, but had escaped into the real world. The brunette quickly bit her lip to keep more thoughts from tumbling out and her eyes slowly raised to look at her Aunt.

Coldly drawing her hand back, Aunt Veronica stood in silence for a few moments, her brain sizzling in anger. Slowly she puffed up from the insult, almost as if the woman forgot how to breathe, as she shook slightly back and forth. "Wait until your parents hear about this," the bride finally threatened, her words breaking through grinding teeth.

Hilary let out a quiet sigh of relief when her Aunt rampaged off to enjoy the other guests' company. She lowered her head into her hands on the table top in an attempt to block the whole night out. It was, of course, unsuccessful. The world around her would continue and every sound of happiness would have an underlying condescending tone just for her.

The people around her would continue to be disappointed; mad at her choice of words, or worse, her decision in boyfriends. Poor boys that don't even know what they are walking into, but end up being burned in the worst way.

Hilary didn't care if her Father thought she was disrespectful, if her Grandfather thought she was ruining her life, or if her Aunt thought she was selfish. Tyson hated her entirely; couldn't even stand looking at her. And at that moment, that was what mattered.

She had never felt worse.


	14. Chapter 13:  Fallout

**Author's Note**: So... since the last update I've really only had two sensible reasons for not getting this chapter done. One is the oh so typical school issue. Two is that I had surgery at the beginning of the month – I am officially without a gallbladder. Yay, I guess?

Should also mention the slight change in deadline plans I have for this story: I intend to have the whole thing finished and uploaded by the end of January 2012. I'm really only saying not by the end of the year because of how busy December typically is due to the holidays, though I'm confident I'll have the next chapter done within December.

Anyway! Allow me to thank **Dragon Reverb**, **cartoon-watcher-4-eva**, **XxGoddess-Of-LovexX**, **sheneverupdates**, **Shiningheart of ThunderClan**, **FallenTenshiXO** , **Sony89**, **ayushi**, **imma-pink-buble**, **Just Mein**, **Kenrai**, **xjoinxthexclubx**, **Kashel**, **sanaa**, **MePo**, **DayDreaming0f_y0u**, **ToraHimeSama**, and **Lakhi94** for the reviews! As always, always appreciated for reading and leaving your thoughts! You are all amazing!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade.

Chapter Thirteen: Fallout

When Tyson's shoes met the dojo's grounds the stars were bright in the sky. It was a clear night, giving off a serene atmosphere. Well, for most people. Tyson was managing to both drag and stomp his feet upon the arrival at his home, ignoring whatever serenity the night wanted to hold.

His jaw was beginning to hurt from clenching his teeth together, grinding them with every raw thought that moulded in his brain. He kept replaying everything over in his head from the past few days, finding new notions to be upset about preying in every memory. Tyson desperately wanted to hit something, feel the contact of his knuckles against whatever hard surface was provided for him. He decided that he would also throw something as far as he could if that opportunity presented itself.

Tyson was known for his temper. He knew he had a low threshold for frustration and that sometimes it got the best of him. This time, however, his threshold was nowhere to be seen, left in the dust as betrayal and outright fury skyrocketed into his being. His emotions left him tensed and built like blocks onto each other, mounting into an immeasurable amount of stress digging into his shoulders.

He felt like he was on the warpath, following the well-travelled route to the main hall of his dojo. Passing the area him and his _friends_ typically trained, Tyson kicked a rock hard before watching as it crashed into the pond scattering the fish.

It was at this point that Tyson could hear voices from within the dojo speaking casually. He let out a breath of air marching onto the veranda with solid steps. His hand had barely rested on the door before he pushed it open with a single motion causing a thud in the process.

The light from the room then washed into the night allowing Tyson to stand briskly in the doorway with his features accented. The people he once called friends were all gathered in the room. Kai was sitting against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed as per usual. Ray, Kenny, and Max were seated not far by, gathered around Kenny's laptop as he typed. Daichi was lying on his back, seemingly not involved in whatever conversation had been taking place.

When the door had opened Ray, Kenny, Max, and Daichi had diverted their attention in Tyson's direction. Silence then sank unsettlingly into the expansive room as each teenage boy read into the dark expression of their friend.

Daichi was not one to take a tactful route in conversation, however, and turned to lay on his side with a smirk. "Nice tux, Tyson." The navy haired boy watched as Max and Kenny cringed at the comment.

"Shut-up, Daichi." Confusion washed over the young red haired boy's face; he hadn't heard the usual growl in Tyson's voice when they argued. Instead his voice had been cold and distant.

"What's your problem?" Daichi retorted, disappointed with the lacklustre response from his team mate.

Kenny coughed nervously, hoping to catch Tyson's attention instead to diffuse the possible situation. The genius knew all too well what type of aggravation Daichi brought to the table and the arguments between him and Tyson were known to be explosive. "You're home early...?" Kenny said indecisively, not knowing where about the discussion should start.

Tyson's stare moved to his small friend that was lurching over his computer almost as if he was about to try to hide behind it. "Is that really a big surprise?" His question came out rigidly taunting, asking for one of his former team mates to respond. When nobody did, Tyson continued, "So who won the bet...?"

Still standing in the doorway, he watched as Kenny looked uneasily at Ray and Max as subtly as possible. Daichi, on the other hand, sat up from his spot interested and a little frazzled. "There was a bet and you guys didn't tell me?" The red haired boy scowled at the news and pumped his fists into the air, "No fair! Just because I'm new...!"

"Shut-up, Daichi," Tyson repeated. His gaze was still hardened in the direction of his oldest team mates, completely ignoring the young blader.

"You can't just boss me around, Tyson!" Daichi jumped to his feet, fists still flailing in the air.

"Daichi," Ray said calmly, "This isn't the time. I think it'd be best if Tyson talked to us alone."

Just as Daichi had opened his mouth to complain, Max jumped in carefully. "Ray's right, Daichi. Just go out for a little while, don't worry about it."

With a frown, the red haired boy began to stomp out of the room. As he passed Tyson in the doorway, the older boy continuing to pay him no attention, he grumbled about telling Grandpa in the morning about how unfair everyone treated him. Tyson hadn't even rolled his eyes in annoyance like his usual self would, instead he waited for somebody to open their mouth and present him with more lies and excuses.

Yet the navy haired boy was brought more silence, much to his frustration. He had dealt with this enough with Hilary and it merely built onto his rage. "Don't tell me you guys didn't make bets about how early I came home? I thought you guys loved doing stuff like that at my expense."

"You know that's not true, Tyson." Max frowned at the subject, having a sinking suspicion he knew where this conversation was going. The blond couldn't help but cringe again when his friend turned his dark stare toward him. Tyson's eyes were full of anger and they managed to pierce through whoever was on the receiving end of them.

"Guess you lost then," Tyson deduced, switching his attention to Ray and Kenny. "How about you guys? Who thought I was _this_ stupid to not figure out things sooner? Maybe that's what you were talking about when I was outside?"

"Nobody called you stupid," Ray sighed as he kept his calm demeanour in place. From the flare that was growing in Tyson's voice he knew this conversation was going to turn explosive and he wanted to negate the situation as quickly as possible.

"Really?" Tyson shot back, fists clenched at his sides and turning his knuckles white. "What I just heard from Hilary tells me the opposite."

Ray quirked an eyebrow, "So she told you the truth?"

Tyson snapped, smacking his fist hard against the door frame with another resounding thud. "You guys knew this whole time!" his voice came out as a snarl as the hard hitting news came from his friends for the first time. "I found out because of her Father, who hates my guts now by the way, and you guys knew the whole time!"

"Tyson, did Hilary tell you the whole story?" Max's voice was soft in wonder, hating that one of his best friends was so upset.

"'Cause that would make everything perfect, wouldn't it?" Tyson shook his head in frustration. "What exactly am I supposed to be understanding here? That everyone I considered to be my friend went behind my back...? I'm a laughing stock at that wedding, congratulations guys! Why is it that no one thought it would be a good idea to let me in on things?"

Ray stood up from his place on the floor as he stared at Tyson intently. "That's enough, Tyson. You're not letting anyone else speak."

The navy haired boy glowered, moving from his spot in the doorway. Tyson approached Ray, who had crossed his arms, before he shrugged his shoulders flippantly. "I've already heard what Hilary had to say," he stated unimpressed, "All I heard was excuses."

"Listen," Ray said, "I didn't agree with Hilary, but..."

"Then you should've opened your mouth," Tyson interrupted in frustration. "I don't see how that could've been so hard! Hilary doesn't control your life, does she?"

Ray's eyes flared in mutual anger. "Tyson," the teenager began again, his voice becoming more intense so it was heard. "Hilary felt like she couldn't tell you because of how you might react."

"I can see why this reaction is so much better..."

"You need to listen to me," Ray warned. Though he often considered himself one of the more patient members of the Bladebreakers, Tyson often found ways to break through his reserve. "She lied to her family first and foremost; she felt that if she told them the truth they would..."

"They would take it out on her? Have some type of consequence for her actions...?" Tyson rolled his eyes in clear annoyance. "I guess I'm just not seeing the point where it is okay if things get taken out on me instead. And if you're trying to lead into some chivalrous crap it probably would've been a little easier if I knew beforehand what I was getting into."

"You're hurt, okay? I get it," Ray reasoned, sick of being interrupted. "You can't honestly say you would've gone along with the idea perfectly if things had been different. I believed you would've gone to the wedding if you had known and I don't believe that."

"What a surprise, you guys don't believe in me."

Pushed from aggravation, Ray grabbed a hold of Tyson's tuxedo to show that he was serious. "Grow up."

"I'd let go of me if I were you..."

"Guys!" Max and Kenny jumped to their feet in unison, alarmed with how the argument was escalating. The two boys put their hands on Ray's arm and shoulder, pulling on him to release his hold on Tyson. Ray let out a sigh, removing his grip from the tuxedo, but keeping his hardened expression focused.

"I don't get why when it comes to Hilary, no matter the situation, I am at fault?" Tyson stated, countering Ray's dark expression with one of his own. "I'm not fourteen anymore, I don't act the same. She's done something to hurt me this time and you guys are climbing over yourselves to come to her rescue. So don't get all over me Ray because I don't see you as being on my side when it is pretty obvious you're on hers."

"That's because we know your history with Hilary," Ray reminded, glancing toward Kenny and Max who were still nearby and on watch for any drastic movements. "We know where she was coming from."

"And I'm the bad guy again!" Tyson exclaimed, bringing his arms with a jolt in the air out of irritation. "How hard is it to say that she should've just come to me? That she made a mistake?"

"Nobody's saying Hilary didn't make a mistake. All of us thought she should've told you...," Max reasoned, the soft tone of his voice pleading for this whole event to just come to an end.

"We're just saying we know her reasons for it," Ray continued with a nod.

"They're excuses to me, not reasons. All I kept hearing from her was that she was sorry and that she didn't mean to," Tyson countered, pointing out each detail with his fingers. "If she didn't mean to, it wouldn't have happened like this. She meant it."

"Maybe you should start listening instead of just hearing." Tyson's gaze flashed angrily to the person that had finally decided to enter the conversation. Kai. Ray, Max, and Kenny also turned to look at the teenager who was still seated against the wall.

"If you got something to say Kai, just say it," Tyson challenged, his fists once again balled down at his sides.

Kai opened his eyes to stare at his rival passively. "Did you even ask her why she said your name?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tyson spat, "I'm the joke here. She could have said any one of your names and things would've been different. She wouldn't have lied. Why? Because all of you guys have qualities she likes. I'm the jerk, the bad guy, the idiot."

"Tyson...," Ray started.

"No, listen to me," the navy haired boy said, his voice considerably more tame since his arrival. His eyes, on the other hand, still held the sting of betrayal. "Kenny's a genius. He does well in school. He always wears ties. Ray, you're patient, quiet, a good listener. You know the differences between all those forks. Max knows how to treat girls, doesn't mind dancing in public, and has table manners."

Tyson's gaze then shifted back to Kai, who had yet to get up from his spot on the floor, and looked genuinely confused. The dual haired boy frowned, "Realize something?"

"Why didn't she say your name?" Tyson's eyebrows crumbled in thought. "That's what I don't understand. Out of everyone, I would have thought she'd pick you. You're... like... her dream guy. The way she talks about you...?"

"But she didn't say my name," Kai closed his eyes again, "She said yours, so I guess you better deal with it. Hilary said your name for a reason and instead of finding out why, you had a tantrum."

Tyson glared at him, a scowl once again forming on his face. "And what do you expect me to do, oh great one?"

Kai smirked at the sarcasm. "Go back."

Tyson snorted. "Yeah, like that's going to happen. I'm sure you want _me_ to apologize too. Hate to break it to you, but her Dad kicked me out."

Kai let out a sigh, finally standing up from his spot on the floor; he gave Tyson a disapproving look. "Then go back to your childish little arguments, I don't really care. I'm done with your whining."

And, with that, Kai headed for the door of the dojo that was still ajar from the navy haired boy's arrival. "Whatever, Kai!" Tyson called after him, "Maybe you should just jump on your white horse and go rescue the poor damsel in distress!"

When Kai didn't respond, Tyson instinctively reached for his head with one of his hands and brushed through the blue locks. It was at this moment that the teenage boy froze in realization before kicking the floor. How could he have been so stupid?

"What's wrong...?" Kenny asked cautiously.

Tyson grumbled his response as he made his way for the door. "Now, I have to go back..."

"Tyson?" Ray called after him.

Halting in the doorway, Tyson looked over his shoulder at the three remaining boys in the dojo. "Kai's not right about this," he warned, confusing his former team mates, "I'm only going back because Hilary still has my hat."


	15. Chapter 14: Life Jackets And Promises

**Author's Note**: This chapter was written relatively quickly and is considerably longer than the last few updates. Alas, we are nearing the end of this story. Next update shall be the epilogue and I'll finally be able to put this story behind me! Pretty excited for that and to be able to move onto some new things without feeling guilty.

If the epilogue gets finished within December, I'll definitely upload it within the month.

Would like to thank **Tensa-Zangetsu102**, **DayDreaming0f_y0u**, **EmeralDragon23**, **Shiningheart of ThunderClan**, **FallenTenshiXO**, **Sony89**, **ayushi**, **Kenrai**, **Indigo Oblivion**, **imma-pink-buble**, **ToraHimeSama**, **MePo**, and **peachesbunny** for the reviews! As always, greatly appreciated and constantly mind blown!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Fourteen: Life Jackets And Promises

Hilary braced for the arrival of one of her parents when she heard relatively excited hushed tones nearby. Since her issues with various family members, people had decided to leave her alone at the table in the back corner of the yard to sulk into her arms. When would this night end?

"You have something of mine."

The sound of the voice caused Hilary to immediately tense before peeking out from the security of her arms. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze met the ever unimpressed eyes of Tyson. The boy still looked angry standing rigidly by her table, a gaping distance still evident between them.

"What...?" Hilary's voice squeaked.

He sighed in response showing weathered annoyance in his actions. "My hat. I want it back."

"Oh," Hilary realized, "Right." The brunette had completely forgotten about that detail and she slowly lifted herself out of her seat. "I'll go get it for you..."

"I'm going with you," he stated matter-of-factly, quickly scanning the yard. Tyson couldn't see any faces of people he recognized, but all were sure to avoid his gaze. "I don't want to run into your Father."

Hilary nodded knowingly as she took the lead toward her house. Although Tyson wasn't yelling, his overall feelings of betrayal still made their way through his words. Everything was to the point and distant. His eyes were also heavy with emotions. She desperately wanted to reach out to him, but didn't want to cause another scene where her family could pick apart his actions.

Her wobbling in heels wasn't getting any better and she could feel Tyson's eyes just burning their way into the back of her head when they made it to the house. She opened the door for both of them, Tyson walking into the house silently, before she took the lead once again.

The house was relatively empty, only a few people lounging about to stay away from the growing bug population outside. The pair shuffled past some guests, both with the single goal of retrieving the hat. The silence was gnawing at Hilary's brain, but she didn't dare break it.

Both teens tackled the stairs on their own. Hilary clung to the rail as her feet carefully climbed each step. Tyson casually jumped up the steps, hands in pockets without even glancing in the brunette's direction. Once on top of the stairs, the walk to Hilary's room was more of the same.

The sounds of their footsteps seemed empty to Hilary. They were usually accompanied by laughter or meaningless arguments, possibly the occasional stupid conversation. She looked over to Tyson as they walked down the hallway, approaching her room, only to see a stony expression.

She sighed flipping the light switch on in her room. As she made her way to her dresser, she noted that Tyson had decided to remain in the doorway. Hilary opened the drawer and saw the boy's hat exactly where she had hid it, safe and sound.

"You lied about that too?" Tyson was leaning against the doorframe with his side. He frowned at the topic, watching Hilary hold his hat rather carefully in her hands. "You said you put it in your desk."

"I... Oh."

Tyson merely sighed at the response.

Hilary looked down at his hat, not even sure why she had lied about it in the first place. She moved forward to give Tyson his desired possession before she stopped herself, instead deciding to hold onto the hat for longer.

"Yes?" Tyson gave her a funny look.

"Maybe... maybe I just wanted to have a reason for you to come back," Hilary said meekly. She gripped the hat tightly, not wanting to let go. "I am really sorry, Tyson."

Tyson turned his head the other way, looking down the hallway to avoid eye contact. Instead he held out his hand in a notion for his hat to be returned. Hilary bit her lip momentarily; she then reluctantly gave the boy his prized possession.

"Thanks," he muttered getting off the doorframe. Without another word, he started down the hall once again so he could leave.

Hilary, knowing this in the pit of her stomach, rushed as quickly as possible after him. He paid her no attention as he wandered down the length of the hallway and descended the stairs. It was only when he arrived at the door that he came to a halt, letting the brunette catch up to him.

"Uh...," Tyson was at a loss of what to say, his attention slowly diverting back to Hilary.

The teenage girl wanted to roll her eyes at the scene in front of them; one of her cousins and, presumably, her date were caught in an oblivious make-out session at the front door. Because of this, Tyson did not have an easy exit from the house and the boy couldn't quite grab the pair's attention to get them to move out of the way.

"It would probably be easier to just leave through the backyard," Hilary offered helpfully. She would rather have Tyson stay and work things out, but he was never good for staying still when he was very upset.

Tyson let out a small growl of annoyance, once again following the brunette through her house. Every minute he was here made his brain feel like it needed to explode. Following Hilary out the back door, he let it swing behind him as he immediately looked for his new exit.

"You aren't supposed to be here!" Hilary sighed loudly, her body first to turn to the owner of the angry voice. Her Grandpa, face pinched together in disgust, was limping toward them at an impressive pace. Tyson also turned to look at the old man just in time for the cane to make contact with his upper left arm.

Hilary gaped at what had just unfolded. "Grandpa!"

"Seriously?" Tyson quirked an eyebrow at the old man skeptically. He glanced at his arm in confusion before beckoning Hilary's Grandpa, "And you call me scrawny?"

"See! This is what I'm talking about," Thomas scoffed at the navy haired boy. Hilary stepped between them, putting her hands on her Grandpa and gently pushing him on his way. The old man tried to ignore her, waving his cane at Tyson. "So disrespectful! This is where you're getting that mouth of yours. You shouldn't be treating your family like _this_ because of some little boy. Sticking up for him – it's ridiculous! Wait until your Father hears he's back..."

"Great, thanks," Hilary murmured to herself, the older man surely on his way to find her Father. She then began to walk back to the table in the back corner of the yard in a desire to welcome its emptiness and bury her head once again in her arms.

"Wait... sticking up for me?"

Hilary jumped at Tyson's voice. She had assumed he had left during her Grandpa's tirade and was surprised to find him standing behind her. She shuffled her feet in the grass carefully.

"Of course... you haven't done a single thing wrong," Hilary explained softly. She bit the inside of her cheek in thought and then decided to sigh. "You have every right to be mad at me. I was selfish. I didn't even think of how this would affect you at all... I'm so sorry."

Tyson leaned against a nearby table, his gaze turned downward to the grass. "I don't get why you did it."

Hilary took a deep breath. "It's not a good reason. My Dad's family is just so... distant. Whenever they see me they just expect things to be different. They always ask me about boyfriends, but this time... it just felt like they were making fun of me."

Tyson nodded absently, quite determined to avoid all forms of contact with the girl. "To me... that doesn't explain why you couldn't just tell me."

"I was scared you might be mad or you'd make fun of me," she told him honestly, hating how he wouldn't even look at her.

"I would've given you a hard time," the boy admitted, playing with the rim of his hat for a distraction. Tyson then looked up at her, his eyes coursing with various emotions. "I still would've been here though... I would've been the best boyfriend possible. I just... I thought we were friends..."

Past tense. Hilary could feel her lip quaking.

"Do you know how they had vows...?" Tyson asked, his attention now back to his hat. "I think friendship has similar vows, but nobody says them out loud." Hilary nodded slowly, allowing him to continue without interruption. "It's like when the guys left me," Tyson's voice became raw at the topic, "I felt alone. Betrayed. This time... it was everyone."

"Tyson..."

"You were there for me when I needed it...," Tyson stated, eyes peeking upward to catch her gaze. "Why didn't you think I'd be there for you?"

Hilary couldn't stop herself, her lip was in full tremble and she just latched onto Tyson with her arms wound around his neck. Tyson tensed in surprise as Hilary buried her chin into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to make you feel this way... I know how hurt you were when they left," she sobbed, "I was only thinking about myself... I'm sorry..."

"Whoa," Tyson said putting his hands on her arms and pushing her away slightly. He looked into her eyes uneasily. "You know I don't do well with crying."

She let go of him reluctantly and wiped at her teary face. "You're my best friend and I hurt you so badly without even trying... I deserve everything..."

"Hey, calm down. I don't want you to cry, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything; this whole night is because of me." Hilary pouted as she continued to rub at her face. "I probably look like a mess..."

Tyson sighed, stopping her hands from touching her face with his own. He then continued to hold onto her hands so that they were in front of both of them. "I know you felt pushed to do the things you said... I get it. I want you to trust me. I want you to know that if you need someone I'll be the first person there."

"I know that... it's just..."

"You still think of me as that jerk back in eighth grade?" he guessed. She shook her head quickly in disagreement. "I know I wasn't the nicest to you... and, I guess, I sometimes still act that way."

Hilary frowned, "I pushed you a lot..."

"And I deserved it. Maybe I deserve some of what I got now," Tyson looked down at his hands clasping hers thoughtfully. "I'm sorry about how I acted earlier. I just... I didn't think you would ever lie to me, at least not about something as big as this."

"It got out of control pretty fast... And watching you leave so upset... I'm really sorry," she tucked her chin down ashamed, "I can't believe I was so selfish."

Tyson let go of one of her hands briefly to lift up her chin as he pulled a small smile. "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me."

"If any stories get to the press, they'll have to deal with me personally," Hilary smiled back softly. "Believe me, with the dirt I know about my family, they suddenly won't seem like such a good source."

The navy haired boy gave a breathy laugh. "Good. Now no more crying... please." With that he let his thumb brush against her cheek, wiping away some stray tears.

"I'll try." Hilary blushed at the contact.

"Oh, Kai wanted me to ask you something," Tyson remembered, his hand casually going back to grasp her own without much thought. "I guess I'm kind of curious too. Why exactly did you say my name?"

"I... I haven't really thought about it," Hilary told him. "I mean... as soon as I said it I kind of regretted it, especially after the wedding was brought up..."

"So... my name just sort of popped up first?" To Hilary, Tyson sounded a bit disappointed. "I guess that makes sense, I mean the other guys are good choices. I'm just kind of the joke."

"The joke?" Hilary repeated, "You shouldn't think that Tyson, you're a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"Sure," he shrugged, "But if Kai were here instead, wouldn't it be better?"

"Kai?"

"Don't you wish you said his name instead of mine?" Tyson asked curiously. As the turn in conversation continued, the brunette swore she could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Your family would've been impressed with him. You two get along, like you said... he likes you better. He's the complete opposite of me really."

"I think things happen for a reason," Hilary attempted to console whatever she thought was bothering him. "It's not like I sat there weighing your pros and cons... I think my brain just went with who it thought sounded good. I mean, if you think about it, we're pretty realistic. Our arguments kind of play into a long term relationship."

Tyson's ears perked at her response as a grin began to take form on his lips. "Good?" he asked with sudden interest, "You think we're _good_ together?"

"I also said realistic," Hilary reminded in an attempt not to blush.

"Yeah, I heard you. But that's what everyone else thinks," Tyson smirked. He tapped at his head with his index finger. "I'm way more interested by your brain thinking we're _good_ together."

"Will you stop saying it like that." Without even thinking, Hilary slapped him in the shoulder fairly hard. "Oh... sorry. Probably a little too soon for that."

"Nah, I'm used to it." Tyson rubbed his arm where she had hit him. "Besides, you hit harder than your Grandpa. Maybe you should start training him?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

"We're so _good_ together."

"I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?" Hilary groaned, rolling her eyes.

"It's not so bad, is it?" Tyson cocked his head to the side in wonder, a smile still gracing his lips. It relieved Hilary to see him as his usual quirky self and she shook her head. It should've been like this the whole night. "I think we should make a promise."

"Okay," the brunette agreed, "About what?"

"From now on... let's be really open and honest about things," Tyson said somewhat shyly, temporarily losing eye contact. "I think tonight we both came too close to wrecking... what we have. I don't want to lose you."

"I don't want to lose you either, Tyson."

"_Good_," he added with a smirk, making Hilary push him playfully. "I think we should hug on it then... no tears this time."

"No tears." Hilary wrapped her arms around his neck again as his own arms made their way around her middle. She was slightly caught off guard by how tightly he held her, but it very quickly made her feel forgiven and loved by the boy.

"Hilary!"

The brunette sighed again as she broke away from the embrace. Both teens straightened up and turned to see a very angry Mr. Tatibana walking toward them. "Oh boy...," Tyson muttered scratching his head and looking every way except for at the approaching Father.

"What is he doing back here?" Mr. Tatibana demanded, the question directed at his daughter.

Hilary opened her mouth to answer when Tyson stepped in. "I forgot my hat, sir."

"We could've mailed it to you."

"Right," Tyson replied uneasily, "Sir, I... well, there's something I got to tell you." The teenage boy removed himself from the table he had been resting against to pull Mr. Tatibana aside slightly. "There's been a misunderstanding."

Hilary gulped and Mr. Tatibana merely stared. It was only moments before the whole story would be out in the open for her family to ridicule, but at least she had Tyson back.

"I didn't know that Hilary had told you we were dating," Tyson continued, sending the brunette a glance. "In fact, I thought we were here as friends."

"Go on...," Mr. Tatibana said in confusion.

"It's not that there's anything wrong with your daughter, I mean... look at her. She's beautiful." Hilary's face flushed at the comment and only got worse when her Dad once again looked her way. "Gorgeous really. I just... we haven't really discussed bringing our relationship public yet, given the press."

Hilary's head jerked in Tyson's direction in confusion, the action causing him to smile. Mr. Tatibana frowned, "Is there a point to this?"

"I know I caused some problems tonight and I'm really sorry. I was just trying to act like you'd expect a male friend would act... and I screwed up pretty good," Tyson shuffled his feet in the grass. "Hilary told me about how she accidentally let you guys in on the secret and how she was afraid to tell me because of the press. I hope you know that I really care about your daughter."

Mr. Tatibana ran his hand through his hair looking at his daughter and then back to the party. "I can't deal with this right now with the wedding and everything. You're going to have to leave."

"I totally understand," Tyson nodded, "Actually I tried to leave earlier, but there were some people blocking the front door with... uh... their lip action...?"

"Great...," Mr. Tatibana sighed.

"I'll show him out Dad," Hilary offered, "If you want to take care of that?"

Mr. Tatibana gave a reluctant nod before walking away in the direction of the house. "Nice to meet you, sir!" Tyson called after him, but he had no response. The navy haired boy looked to Hilary with a slight smile, "You know, I don't think he thinks we're _good_ together."

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Come on."

Taking her lead, Tyson trailed somewhat behind the brunette as they walked around the outside of her house. Unlatching the wooden gate, both teens were once again able to successfully leave the wedding. Hilary stared at Tyson curiously now basked in the darkness between her and her neighbour's houses.

"What?" he asked feeling her gaze.

"You just lied to my Dad."

"Yeah...," Tyson acknowledged, giving her an amused look. "Like I said, if I had known, I would've gone along with everything. Hopefully that takes some of the blame off of you."

"Tyson... thank you."

"No problem." He shrugged looking down at his shoes. Hilary noticed that his hat was still in one of his hands and she smiled. Taking it out of his grasp, catching his attention instantly, she placed it carefully on his head just how he liked it.

"There," she said with finality once she finished adjusting it. "Now you can leave just how you came."

Tyson smiled as he looked toward the road he had stormed away on earlier. "Let's go then."

"What?" Hilary frowned, "I can't leave, the wedding is at my house."

"So?" Tyson retorted gesturing for the girl to come along with him. "What are you going to do here? Get yelled at? Ignored? Come on, you can always say you were here the whole time if someone asks."

"Well... I don't really want to be here..."

"It's settled then!" He grabbed her carefully by the wrist and started walking away from the house, making Hilary follow with a sigh. Tyson faced her with a grin as they continued out of her yard. "I think it's time you took those heels off, they're not really the Hilary I know anyway."


	16. Epilogue

**Author's Note**: Here we are, at the end. Finally. I cannot even describe how accomplished I feel with this story coming to a close, especially with everything I've had to overcome since it began. I want to dedicate this story to both my cousin Kenneth and my Mom – a day doesn't go by where I don't think of you.

Little background on this story: Whenever I used to see my dad's side of the family (we are estranged, haven't seen anyone I haven't wanted to since I was fifteen) they used to say and ask me the same stupid things. One of the questions, much to my anger and dismay, had the word "yet" tagged to the end of it after a while. I used to tell my Mom and brother that I was just going to lie to them as I didn't appreciate their condescending tone about it. The last time I saw them I was very tempted to lie. Few months after I got a wedding invitation. Didn't have to go due to school, but the very thought wouldn't leave me alone and this story was born. That being said, none of Hilary's relatives are a reflection of mine as I like hers to some degree.

I would like to thank the following for reviewing the last chapter: **DayDreamin0f_y0u**, **Sony89**, **Indigo Oblivion**, **Kenrai**, **MePo**, **ayushi**, **FallenTenshiXO**, **Shiningheart of ThunderClan**, **ToraHimeSama**, and **Basstyle1**! I also want to thank anyone who has reviewed in the past, put this story or me on their alerts or favourites, or has even just read this anonymously. I appreciate everything and you guys have helped me out in so many ways! I am forever thankful for your time! Please feel free to leave your thoughts, I love reading them and hearing from you.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Beyblade.

Epilogue

"Wait... so the kid's name is actually Elliot? His teddy bear is named Sammy?" Tyson was walking backwards down the familiar trail by the river. He often walked here to train or hang out with friends by the bridge; tonight a full moon was bright in the sky and it casted down on the boy that was fixated on the brunette who accompanied him.

"Yes," Hilary nodded sheepishly, clarifying that he did indeed have the story correct.

"And you guys told him I'd call him Sammy to make him feel better?" Hilary nodded once again to the additional question. Her heels were down at her side as she followed the boy's lead; her fingers were looped around the straps as they made the shoes swing back and forth. "The _one_ good thing I could've done tonight. Now we have to go back..."

Tyson let out a dramatic sigh as he faked a retreat back to Hilary's house. He didn't get far before the brunette grabbed him by his arm and gave it a slight tug. "Please no. It's probably too late for him by now anyway."

"Fine," Tyson rolled his eyes as he turned his attention down the slight hill to the glistening river. "How about we just hang out here for a while?"

Without waiting for a response from the girl, he headed down the somewhat steep decline. "You don't want to see the guys yet, do you?" Hilary wondered out loud, sadness lacing her words.

He met her gaze briefly and then sat down on the grass to face the water. "I think they can suffer a bit longer," Tyson said honestly, again craning his neck to look back at her. "Sick of me or something?"

Hilary contemplated throwing one of her heels at his head, but finally decided against it. She too descended the hill to sit somewhat beside him as she positioned her dress and legs carefully. Tyson snorted at this, Hilary merely retorting with a glare.

"So... what's with the shawl again?" Tyson leaned back on the grass with his palms as he acknowledged the white fabric draped over her shoulders.

"My Mom thought it'd help out my hips," Hilary reminded him, "My Dad thought I needed to be covered up more."

Hilary's face flushed when Tyson gave her a once over with sudden interest. He raised an eyebrow when his gaze met hers obliviously afterwards, making the situation worse on the brunette. "I've seen you in bathing suits..." While this was true, Hilary had to break their eye contact out of embarrassment.

"Don't tell my Dad that," Hilary stated in an attempt to distract herself. "He'd probably make me wear sweaters all year long or borrow clothes from my Grandma..."

"My lips are sealed." She could see Tyson smirking from the corner of her eye, but she decided not to provoke him. "Does it even keep you warm?"

"No, not really," she shrugged her shoulders. It wasn't that cold out, yet she saw sudden movement coming from Tyson's direction regardless.

Turning to look at him completely, the navy haired boy was wrestling with his tuxedo's jacket in an attempt to get it off. When he finally succeeded, he threw the jacket over to rest on Hilary's lap instead of just handing it over. Tyson then proceeded to roll up his dress shirt's sleeves up to his elbows. "I was getting kind of hot anyway..."

"Thank you," she smiled. Hilary slipped her arms into the jacket, but kept it around her front like a blanket for her bare legs.

"No problem," Tyson wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them close as he stared into the water. After a moment's silence, he cleared his throat. "So... what are your plans?"

Confused, Hilary tilted her head in his direction. "About what?"

"What are you going to tell your family the next big get-together?" Tyson didn't move to look back at the brunette, not that his voice held any malice. He sounded genuinely interested. "Are we breaking up or what?"

It was sort of a funny concept, Hilary found, discussing breaking up with someone that she never really dated. Thinking over her choices and coming up with no concrete answers, she was left to shrug her shoulders once again. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Tyson threw a rock he found in the grass, watching it sink immediately when it hit the water. He frowned and then began to search for another stone. "I think I could do better. Plus you owe me."

Hilary stared at him as he felt around in the grass blindly. "What do you have in mind?"

"What about my family get-togethers? I don't get a fake relationship for one?" Tyson quickly gave up searching, his eyes meeting Hilary's curiously. "I don't know if Hiro would buy it or not... definitely think you'd do me some good though. Heck, my whole family would think that."

"You think so?" Hilary tried not to sound too interested in the idea, yet she couldn't help but wonder how his family would receive her. The only people she really knew from his family were Hiro and Grandpa, the latter she knew quite well loved the affect that she had on his grandson.

"Kidding me? Grandpa boasts about you to my Dad all the time," Tyson seemed more embarrassed than annoyed at this fact. "He's been bugging me to bring you along for a while."

"Why haven't you...?"

"Guess it never dawned on me to lie and say you were my girlfriend?" Hilary felt a pang of guilt by his comment, but knew from his slight smirk he was kidding. "I didn't want to put you in the awkward position of my relatives trying to hook us up. Now, I figure, compared to your family, mine will be a walk in the park."

Hilary smiled. "I'd love to meet the rest of your family."

"Yeah... well, I still have to prove myself to yours," Tyson said defiantly. "So you gotta give me another chance as your boyfriend before you break us off or whatever."

The brunette gaped. "You want to go through _that_ again?"

"I'm kind of hoping things will go differently. Maybe leave with a few people liking me," Tyson reasoned, playing with the idea in his head. "I'm giving up on some people though, like your Aunt Veronica and Aunt Bertha... and your Grandpa. Good luck finding someone to please them."

Hilary couldn't help but agree. "I'm not going to argue with you. If you want to be my date again, I won't say no."

Instead of grinning like she thought Tyson would, his attention went back to the moonlight accented river. He stared at it thoughtfully and quietly as the usual night time noises flitted through the air. Hilary could also hear the occasional car drive by a few blocks away.

"I can be a good boyfriend..."

His voice had said this softly, the usual confidence that inflated his words nowhere to be seen. Tyson also made no movement afterwards to indicate that he had said something, his eyes fixated on the river intently.

"I'm sure you'd be a great boyfriend," Hilary assured him, her eyes trained on him. "You did some really sweet things today without even knowing you were one."

Tyson, who had still been hugging his knees for the last little while, finally moved to stretch out his legs in front of him. He retreated to his previous stance with his palms carrying a lot of his weight as he leaned back. He didn't acknowledge her right away, his head tilting upward to the sky.

"I could do better," he stated, shifting his feet in front of him almost shyly. This came after a long silence, but Hilary just kept staring at him. His words were still so quiet, she just needed to know she wasn't imagining things. Tyson then glanced to her briefly, catching her gaze long enough to ensure she was listening. "You should let me show you sometime..."

His eyes then went back to staring at the river and the sky in brief intervals, visibly embarrassed by the words that he allowed to escape his lips. Hilary knew she was blushing, that her heart may have just skipped at what he could have meant by his words. She looked down to the jacket that covered her before she shuffled closer to the boy on the hill.

Tyson's gaze reluctantly tore away from the river to look at the brunette uneasily, who was looking downwards in her own awkwardness. "I'd really like that, Tyson," she told him, her own voice fairly quiet.

Hilary peered up from the jacket just in time to see his lips break into his trademark smile. Tyson reached up to play with his hat out of habit, at a loss for what to say. It was like this for a few moments, both teens sending each other quick glances before falling into stupid smiles. Finally, Tyson cleared his throat as his brain decided on what he should say.

"You're not going to regret saying my name, Hil." Tyson was smiling brilliantly at her, his eyes shining with confidence. Staring at the boy beside her, Hilary knew one thing.

If given the chance, she would say his name again if they still ended up here.


End file.
